


Don't do the thing! Too late!

by TarnishedJackal (Whitedemoness)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Accidentally makes things work, All the screw ups, Crackish but not, Damaged mage character, F/M, Fruit as a weapon, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Inquisitor doesn't like to kill people, Mostly Mute, Probably going to go into romance, Rivalmance, Roderick is not a dick for once, Sera Being Sera, Sera as best friend, Solas Disapproves, Solas is going to kill her, The worst possible Herald, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, This does not follow plot much, Varric is seriously wondering who spiked the water, What Was I Thinking?, Why are all these people listening to Lavellan?, immature humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 23:17:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 41,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9407261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whitedemoness/pseuds/TarnishedJackal
Summary: Terrible name? Check. Drifting sort of aimlessly and then get sucked into far too much insanity that starts with cleaning chamberpots and ends with throwing fruit to save the Divine at the conclave only to fail and get a glowing green hand for your trouble? Yeah that happened. Proceed to ignore the advice of the random apostate and make a horrible impression? Did that. A lot. Happen to have an issue that keeps rendering speech painful? That's just life. Or the one with an inquisitor who actually keeps trying to NOT do anything properly and somehow things are working out. If she's annoying everyone in the process at least some people are laughing.





	1. Chapter 1

AN: Oh my god I just don't know and ...yes. Originally I was going to do a fun what if the Jackal from my other story was actually the Inquisitor and Elan had lived and I still think I'd enjoy that but then I wanted a REALLY unsuitable inquisitor and this utterly insane thing popped up. And I'm Having fun with this.

()()()()()()()()

 

Din'ara watched in silence as clan Lavellan slept soundly in the pre-dawn hours. They had let her stay with them, on the outskirts for many years. She was not one of them, no markings climbed her face in the blood writing proper though a deep scar ran over her right eye from forehead to jaw and curved along her face it was a silvery hue natural of healing. She was a woman of certain years, as the Orleasian's liked to say. Beautiful but fully in the maturity of being a woman with her youth behind her, yet not aged or silvered anywhere save where her hair grew shock white naturally. She had come to Clan Lavellan nearly eight years ago, offering her skills as a healer, her silence made them wary but in time they had not minded that she followed.

 

She lived on the sidelines. Spoke little, did not hunt but would gather. Her hands were deft with weaving and her heal craft had earned her the name of 'Light Touch' or other such foolish terms. They did not enjoy calling her by her name. Well, it was a bit on the...morbid side.

 

Still it was what her mother had claimed her as. For all the good it did, her mother had been made tranquil whilst carrying her and it was no doubt part of what had warped Din'ara's magic. For it was only healcraft that came to her. Now, as if to make up for it what she could do rivaled several healers working in tandem but it was still frustrating. She could see and learn, and any tome the Keeper or her first would actually let her at she would commit to memory. Yet no matter how much she could have explained working with fire or the earth, only healing would flow from her fingers. Her dreams were strange and scattered things where she delved too deeply into slumber and wandered a bit too far. Sominari but not.

 

Thus the Keeper felt at ease approaching her to ask for their silent outsider to go spy on this 'conclave.'

 

The unspoken 'if you choose not to return to us after, we shall not fault you.' was heavy in the air for all they wanted her healing skills it always made them nervous. It was probably about time she left for another clan elsewhere anyways. She'd tried living in the cities but the crowds and the squalor was depressing.

 

“Thank you, Da'len.” The hahren who had first found her years ago said as he passed over supplies to her, one by one she eased them into her pack. He'd awoken early just to help her, and it brought a smile to her lips. “For everything. For the healing, for your herbs, for the silent watches..I wish we'd brought joy to you.”

 

The green eyes that met hers then were serious and he smiled, the many lines of his markings dividing up his face. It seemed fitting that one of Dirthamen's marked ones were seeing her off.

 

“There is still time..” He reached out to barely touch her cheeks with the pads of his fingers, offering to give her marks himself. “It would give you some protection. Some welcome with the other clans.”

 

Din'ara just smiled at him and shook her face, but for a moment she turned her cheek into his touch. Using her actions instead of her rare words to show she would miss him and his company. He had become something of a beloved uncle figure to her and she found it a bittersweet knowledge that she would miss his company. Out of all the clan, it was just Hahren Vinta, who had been there for her.

 

“I will write.” She spoke softly, her words rare, clipped, soft but worth the pain of speaking when she saw how his eyes lit up. The strain on her vocal cords was eased almost immediately but the discomfort was always there when she spoke.

 

“Please do, da'len.” He offered no traditional words of parting for he did not wish to see her go.

 

Before the first rays of the sun began to dapple through the leaves, her form slipped into shadows and was gone.

()()()()()()()

 

The conclave was..loud. Busy. Noisy. Rank. Haven was overcome with visitors and soldiers teemed everywhere. The ever present chantry members were annoying with the constant droning and Din'ara longed for the silence of her peaceful days in the woods. Still, it was only for a short time and that was something she could spare. So she moved and with her hair properly dusted generously with ash and dirt from the area the white and black strands were hidden to a mousey splotched brown that was entirely dull and forgettable. Her attire was covered by a rough burlap tunic and over breeches that snagged annoyingly on her leggings but was tolerable. A few wraps of fur and a thicker bit of linen around her ankles and feet and hands and a clever bit of knotting her hair made her seem like any other elven servant with their hair in a serviceable bun.

 

She was _**boring.**_ It served Din'ara well. She was an herbalist, a healer, a researcher not a rogue. But she knew how to play the part of a servant, to put her head down and flitter about. In changing chamber pots she endeared herself to the other servants who were too happy to have assistance with so many around that egos were clashing. It was always the servants who suffered. One got her a better uniform and with a promised two meals a day -a feast for the serving class who were lucky if they had a tolerable single one- to help with a particularly irritating group of representatives from one of the templar's. Not an actual templar, no far more ranking servants were there..but somehow she still ended up polishing armor and helping to sharpen swords.

 

This she had learned years ago and was nimble of fingers. She was very good at mending as well, sometimes one needed to suture flesh and so working on such a skill was only to her benefit if her mana had ever run out. She didn't worry about the templars and such sensing her, if one did not actively cast or carry a staff no one truly looked at you and thought 'magic'. Besides, healing was a generally derided magical study anyways.

 

So she spent days in drudgery. Din'ara was sore and tired every night when she would go to sleep only a few hours before being awakened. Dark bread that was almost sour to help it keep longer than the fluffy lighter stuff the ranking humans ate was spread with cheese leftover from the previous evenings supper and any remaining fruit and meats. At least in the cold everything was keeping passably well and if you weren't ashamed to eat the scraps from the table, well shame had no place in such a location.

 

Her pointed ears caught numerous bits of information. No one paid attention to the servants and so Din'ara learned the names and leanings of different people. Personally, though she applauded this Divine Justina, there was no viable way she saw all this working out. The common folk feared magic almost more than the true demons, simply because of a mere chance that things could go wrong. It was much like the plight of her race, it would not change save for a few daring individuals until all of them rose up and demanded change.

 

It was however, a fine start. If one doomed to fail.

 

The final day of talks she'd taken a heavy tray laden with succulent juicy fruits to remove the need for goblets and pitchers for parched throats when she saw the slip of a boy nearly shaking under the weight. It weighed far less than all the canvas and harnesses for the aravel's and she'd usually assisted in the take down and setting up of them.

 

“I have it, da'len.” She mumbled and the boy blinked at her before a huge smile spread across his freckled cheeks. “Go get your noon meal and rest. You can help Norma with the dishes for me instead. Just drying.”

 

“Thanks!” And the boy was off before she could rescind her offer. Din'ara didn't blame him. Heaving the heavy ornate silver tray into a better hold she nudged open the door at the end of the hall. Really these massive doors and the huge hallways..and yet somehow always emptied.

 

“SOMEONE HELP ME!”

 

“...oh..” Din'ara couldn't slap her forehead but it didn't take long of looking around to see that somehow this was assuredly _not_ the situation she had been walking into. There was a distinct lack of passive aggressive people standing around in frippery and flapping their hands faster than mouths. Because of course. The tell tale green of the fade in the area had somehow replaced the regular world and she'd just moved right into it. Ignoring the schematics instead she set the tray down on the nearest surface and pelted several apples and oranges at the nearest ones to her. The shock of being pelted with fruit did wonders for buying time. Then upending the rest of the fruit she took hold of the tray and smacked another on the head. It was big and heavy and reflective and worked just fine.

 

“Get the elf!” She heard screamed at some point and wanted to roll her eyes. Yes. Get the elf with the tray. So threatening.

 

The Divine ran to her after she sent a glowing ball flying and without a second thought Din'ara grabbed for it because one, the yelling massive weirdo wanted it and two, she could probably either throw it and have him play fetch or hit someone in the head with it.

 

The sudden searing pain and rush of power that wasn't hers?

 

Didn't expect that.

 

As things often did it all went down hill and at some point she was running with the woman, was told to warn them and a push to her shoulder sent her through the fade.

 

She landed with a heavy and ungraceful thud, still clutching the now badly dented tray and blinked at the circle of weapons in her direction.

 

Sighing she dropped the tray and just sat down. Humans and their drama...

()()()()()()()

 

Her consciousness came and went pretty regularly thanks to her new glowing green marking. At one point she was questioned by a red headed woman with the most aged eyes she'd ever seen on a young face. Though she had this strange feeling like something had tried to claw at her mind, Din'ara did have her memories and shared the utter ridiculousness of them with the 'Leliana' as she learned to call her.

 

It kind of felt like a victory when she made the woman snort from laughing at the answer of “I pelted the people there with fruit. And then I hit them with the tray. Don't suppose the tray is still around do you? Technically wouldn't it now be a relic having helped defend the Divine?”

 

Talking _**hurt.**_ Din'ara was no fool though and as an elfin nobody, and still filthy so at least her features were obscured and her hair likely even more browned, talking was her safety line. So she dealt with the pain and the discomfort of the sensations as she forced out the words. The fact she had remembered that the Divine, glowing no less which was pretty amazing when you thought about the fact humans didn't just start lighting up like miniature stars, had helped her out of the rift with the words to warn them also likely saved her skin.

 

She had to repeat the story for a woman with more scowl than hair and a really old weird man. The same one that she took one look at and said “Oh, hello Chancellor. I'm sorry I didn't get your favorite robe mended..I've ah..been here.”

 

Chancellor Roderick was the one who insisted after hearing the tale that she be let out. Obviously the Divine had sent her and they couldn't discount that whatever strangeness had happened had been from Divine Justina was the consensus. It was about the only thing they agreed on as Roderick wanted to find a new Divine immediately and the other two women were more interested in healing the gaping green sky hole.

 

“You are exceptionally fortunate that you have been so cooperative.” Cassandra told her at one point. “You have never claimed anything save for dumb luck and the Divine's own work saved you.”

 

Din'ara just gave Cassandra a nod. Sighing. “Can I stop talking now. Please.”

 

“It troubles you?” Cassandra asked with a frown and Din'ara just nodded, rubbing at her throat. “One of the servants who has been bringing you food said you did not like to talk..and you have told the same tale many times. I did not realize it was because it caused you pain. Do you need a healer to look at it?”

 

Resigned to giving this explanation Din'ara shrugged. “Cord was round my throat when born.”

 

Cassandra winced and nodded. “You are lucky it seems. Or terribly unlucky. To have lived then, to live now, and with that mark doubtlessly killing you..”

 

Din'ara listened to the ramblings even as someone brought back her clothing. Dalish gear the lot of it, the more sensible hunter's attire for winter as opposed to other garments. Gifts from her hahren when her older ones had worn out. Usually they garbed those with magics in keeper style robes but she had always preferred her skin covered, fewer bites and stings from things that way. Once fully garbed, and even given back her short knife collection -one for eating, another for gathering herbs, and a third for skinning game- Cassandra was leading her through Haven.

 

A mix of worried, hateful, and awe struck expressions followed them and Cassandra was only too happy to take up the slack of talking for her. “The word that Divine Justina saved you to deliver her message has been mostly well received. Of course a number of them are bitter she did not come herself, and Leliana has requested we keep secret exactly..how..you helped distract them. It's not precisely the stuff of popular tales you understand.”

 

Any further teasing fell as she did upon the ice. Though to Cassandra's credit it seemed to take a great deal to even push the woman back. She was grace personified as she moved with blade and shield flashing brightly. No doubt ones that were polished regularly and by her own hand rather than a servant's. It didn't take long for the rift spawn to target Din'ara and while she had her knives there was certainly no point in using such utilitarian devices against someone as a weapon. A cursory glance of the nearby corpses, ignoring the barrel of fallen weapons because none of them suited her, revealed a mace with a hand guard.

 

Really, the use of the tray in the Fade hadn't entirely been anything but luck. In direct contrast to what one thought of when thinking 'elfin fighting' Din'ara had never been one for the flourishes and delicate movements. Twirling blades and striking arrows were no more her active preference than sending swords of any length to whistle through the air. What one did not expect was for you to get close, inside their guard, and hit them. Generally on the head but the throat, solarplexus, eyes..there were many options. Against humans it was highly effective and had no need to be lethal.

 

Din'ara may have had the macabre name but she really did prefer to not kill. For these demonic things though, she was entirely willing to make an exception. Living did appeal to her. Claws and arms were too long for most of the shade's to react when she stepped up near enough to hold her breath lest she breathe in the foul aroma that wafted from them and a good dual hit, to the neck, another to the shoulder, and a final twirled round to clock it heavily in the head and the Shade was down without a real attack. It was hard to attack so close to one's own torso after all.

 

When the last had been handled Cassandra looked over and nodded, pleased. “It seems your foray with the tray, though entirely unsuitable for retelling in time, was not so far from providence. Can you use a shield?”

 

“Small.”

 

Cassandra managed to find her a buckler with still working straps that were tightened to help hold the shield in place she she needn't expend much strength carrying it as they hurried on. Din'ara was under no illusions as to her clumsy and crude preference for fighting, though it took courage and skill to be brawler and brute with finesse. She gave a crooked grin when Cassandra snorted softly, even as they saw the glowing green maw awaiting them and the figures fighting off others.

 

“You are anything but what I would think the Divine would have chosen to emerge..” it was said fondly though, and the two women charged down.

 

Before long the strange bald apostate had used her hand and the most uncomfortable sensation of drawing the rift _closed_ as if it had been an errant thread in a garment she was weaving, and the talking started. All the talking. This time Din'ara stayed silent as the bald one prattled on, and then the dwarf who seemed quite happy to introduce himself.

 

Din'ara said nothing, just nodding to both. Though she truly wished to raise a brow when the scholarly elf dismissed her as 'your prisoner is clearly no mage..' one more layer of protection from those around her. She would not be adverse to remaining unnoticed. Much of the rest of his commentary was far more technically inclined and while she paid attention, she gave the appearance of being lost, looking from one to the other.

 

“He means he kept that mark from killing you while you slept..” The dwarf, Varric he had called himself, interjected and that truly made Din'ara uncomfortable. Who knew what was happening while she danced with consciousness and he apparently worked with the now light scrawled across her palm? Still, though it felt..unusual..it did not hurt. Something she would keep to herself even as she allowed concerns of an unattended male alone with her.

 

Cassandra likely caught on to her expression, she was a fellow woman after all and sneered. “For all the good it did, he kept trying to send the guards away.”

 

“They were distracting me. Needlessly I may add.” Solas all but pouted.

 

Din'ara just inclined her head, side stepping the request for her name that had been gently set out by Varric and Solas both in their ways. Were this breach to be closed she would be leaving Haven and it's residents behind and saw no reason to stand out in their minds yet further. To this point Din'ara had been cautiously not allowing any of the trio at her back, but as Cassandra turned to lead them on further the simple eventuality of that became clear. Also, either she hung around the two surprisingly talkative males..which while she could understand of the rogue who seemed to be curious about everything, it was in his profession after all, she could not from the other elf. She was utterly filthy, had yet to speak in their presence. Indeed she knew if anything she was coated now in more grime and sweat and likely several shades darker in hue with sweat keeping the dirt and ash in the air clung to flesh in an itchy combination. A silent sigh from her had the air whistling out between her teeth softly.

 

Glowing hand, it was such an inconvenience.

 

Cassandra looked back, and made a hand motion that sent Din'ara to rolling her gait faster and keeping stride with the much more heavily garbed woman. Her feet fell into the pace of one used to traveling long distances, indeed she'd never ridden the Halla, among the Clan it had always been Din'ara on foot as she could eat up the ground for miles at her easy lope. Clicking her tongue against her teeth a few times she tilted her head, meeting dark eyes with her own. The only feature she'd never been able to hide, her eyes were an eerie silver hue as she was well aware with a bleedover into green. Hetero-chroma that all but divided her eyes in half, the top silver, the bottom green. It was why as a 'servant' she'd always done her best to never make eye contact. Even now she looked at others through her lashes, angling her jaw in such a way as to help hide the impact of her unusual iris's.

 

Habits hard won.

 

Cassandra said nothing as they reached the next battle. This time she needed almost no prompting to close the rift, the pulsing of her palm slowly easing as she did so. It caused her to look at the mark curiously, but further examination would need to wait.

 

Like when she didn't have an audience.

 

“You are getting quite good at that.” Solas said with a smile, as if she was one of the little da'len underfoot in camp. A hooded glance and a soft shrug was his answer. It was actually, rather entertaining how it pulled at his mouth into a frown. “Truly I suppose I shouldn't be surprised one of the dalish is so ...stand offish to the rest of the elves you encounter...”

 

Her answer was still silent as she gestured to her filthy face, streaked in sweat as it was but clearly bereft of any blood writing. Once she wiped it on her sleeve to even clarify her point. Her continued silence was grating on him and the dwarf but the shorter male piped up first.

 

“Naw she may dress like them, but probably from some poor sod that they just flung at her. Not a mark on her face, save that scar. Nice by the way. Little mouse? No that doesn't work...what's your name?”

 

Din'ara shook her head and moved as if to follow Cassandra.

 

“Oh come on, it can't hurt to tell us!”

 

The irony of his words pulled a snort from her and she pressed her fingers against her throat, to ease the strain and pressure.

 

“...D...in..ara.”

 

“Dinara?”

 

It wasn't right but close enough and so she shrugged. Cassandra had finished finding a potion nearby and tucked it into her pouch as she approached. “What? Is your throat hurting again?”

 

“Need I look at an injury?”

 

Din'ara shook her head even as Varric piped up. “She just said her name was Dinara.”

 

“Don't make her speak.” Cassandra sneered at the dwarf, a glance at her and Din'ara gave Cassandra one of her rare smiles and shrugged. She didn't really care if they knew. Maybe they'd stop asking her to talk then. “We had her tell her story a few too many times and talking causes her pain.”

 

“I..may I?” Solas reached over to her with his fingers already aglow. Wordlessly after searching his face she simply tilted her head back a little, allowing him access to her throat. It wasn't as if she hadn't been healed by others, her own warped mana never seemed to follow the flows others did and more than a few Keepers had said it was if she had none.

 

Gently his long fingers trailed along her exposed neck, the soft sensation of healing magic, very well mastered actually, gentling the inflamed voice box and vocal cords. The scar tissue of her throat that had been there since her earliest days always returning no matter what had happened. Her body simply thought it was how it should be. Still, the easing of it with his magic made her sigh in relief. Being touched was always a rarity too and she could shamelessly admit to it being pleasant, even if his fingers were cold from the atmosphere.

 

“That should help. A great deal of scarring..early trauma?” He was frowning as he withdrew his hand and after swallowing a few times to test that the pain was not there she responded. And startled at the sound of her own voice without the husky lilt of the scar tissue deepening her voice. She sounded so young..it was, peculiar.

 

“Yes. It always returns, but thank you.”

 

“And she can talk!” Varric cheered before frowning. “What'd you do as a kid that hurt you so bad?”

 

“I was born with the cord wrapped tight round my neck and there was some damage when it was cut away poorly, I was lucky freeing me from it didn't kill me then. Or so I was told.” She answered calmly as they started forward again.

 

“Not a good midwife then?” Cassandra asked and Din'ara looked at her, lips twitching.

 

“Why does everyone always find this topic so interesting?”

 

“It's unusual.”

 

“No. No one was there that knew anything of healing arts and my mother did it. Her hands were, of course, shaking. It was a small cut, easily bandaged and within an hour someone was looking over me but the injuries were not detected for years. I was merely thought to be a silent child.” Din'ara had no reaction as she told it though it was kind of amusing how perturbed the trio with her were.

 

She remembered her mother. Always distracted. It wouldn't have occurred to her at all that perhaps her child was _too_ silent.

 

“So Dinara?”

 

“Din'ara.” She corrected and didn't miss the flinch of Solas. She hummed her agreement. Reveling in her ability to do so.

 

“What is it chuckles?”

 

“That is..a most..unfortunate name..”

 

“As is yours.”

 

“...point taken.”

 

“What is it?” Varric needled and Din'ara frowned.

 

“Just because I can talk without pain, Master Tethras..” And she trailed off pointedly, speeding up as she saw Leliana and Roderick awaiting them.

()()()()()()

 

Solas did not know what to make of the strange woman. She was garbed as a Dalish but did not speak as one. When she finally spoke after he healed her and the amount of scar tissue was old but not old enough. Why had it come back if she had it healed before? She'd been..strange..to see in battle. There was not an ounce of wasted movement, it made her seem clumsy and lumbering but to one who had witnessed enough fights it was instead the prose to the poems of most warriors. Extreme proficiency and simplicity that bore out a ruthlessness of one who so heavily disliked fighting they learned to end a battle as swiftly as possible. Her coloration was impossible to make out under all the dirt and she was not being treated under suspicion. He'd heard the rumors of course, that supposedly the Divine had sent her.

 

The casual humility she moved with, the silence, was far louder to his aged eyes than anything. This woman held secrets and deflected them with an ease that came across as awkwardness. He knew that one all too well himself. His utter distaste for a warrior to be carrying his anchor, power that mages would have happily sacrificed family lines into slavery for, was hidden under his curiosity that she didn't really seem worried about having this new responsibility.

 

He did find himself very startled however, when the blustering sneering Chancellor seemed to smile a little upon spying their filthy little anchor wielder. That the man greeted her as anything than a hated prisoner, when her ears were certainly on display, seemed very out of character.

 

“Ah, settle this for us. I have conceded we need to have this disaster placed behind us, it would be unfair to subject a new Divine to it..but there are two approaches..”

 

Din'ara..and wasn't that truly a foul name to give a child? Looked at the map, then up at the imposing peak before she glanced from Roderick to Leliana. Despite his healing she was clearly so used to weighing her words that it had not changed her succinctness. Considering the inescapable prattling he was used to, preaching from the dalish and bleating from the city elves..it was not an unpleasant change. Especially as hers was from thought, not being cowed. Or so it had seemed.

 

“Men already sent out?” Din'ara finally asked and Leliana nodded.

 

“On the mountain pass.”

 

“Reinforcements then.” The woman's slim frame shrugged and clearly they would be taking the mountain pass. Again the Chancellor acted out of his slimy character and frowned at the she-elf.

 

“Do come back alive. I'd hate to send off for that robe..”

 

Oddly the remark brought a grin to Din'ara's face and she nodded before stepping forward. Unable to really do anything else so long as the breach remained, and she carried such an integral part of his powers in the literal palm of her hand, Solas followed.

()()()()()()

 

It was interesting how their morale seemed to flag because she did not care to speak. There was complaints over the cold, the rickety ladders, the dark. Din'ara bore them all with the same approach she had to most everything. It would pass as well, and so long as it was the only way to have this breach sealed and her hand cured, she would endure. Then none of this would matter as she slipped away from everything.

 

She let Cassandra do the talking when they met the scouts, and it was only as they passed the red lyrium and entered a location where the Fade all but battered her senses that she paused.

 

_**“Someone Help mE!”** _

 

“You were here! Indeed..as you said..” Cassandra whirled and Din'ara just slapped her own face, wincing. Yes. She knew what was coming next and it wasn't precisely her finest hour. Maybe. Actually ..she opened her eyes and grinned as the vision of her walking in with the tray looked around, swiftly processing that things were very much not right.

 

_**“Oh.”** _

 

“Oh!? You have this..this...and you..no no no no..” Varric mumbled and Din'ara shrugged, grinning though as the image cut off.

 

“...Is that when..” Cassandra asked, and despite her best efforts the Seeker's shoulder's were shaking. She was being kind in not saying anything considering the audience and soldiers there but for the first time Din'ara gave her a full grin.

 

It was a sly and wicked thing she knew, a temptress's smile that Hahren Vinta had often said should have revealed fangs because it just didn't seem entirely sane when she grinned like that.

 

“...I made a scene? Yes.” And Din'ara fought back the urge to cackle. Because truly? She'd challenge anyone to imagine she all but rescued the Divine by pelting her captor with fruit and a big silver tray.

 

“What information are we missing about all of this?” Solas finally asked after lecturing on the fade impression. Din'ara locked her eyes to his for the first time fully, and her grin was so infused with mischief her shoulder's were actually shaking.

 

“I caused a scene.”

 

Cassandra seemed mortified that she snorted in laughter when hearing that. Din'ara felt rather proud.

()()()()()()()

 

A scene. The woman was maddening. She repeated her words, if she even spoke. Gave away nothing, and the smug cat with the cream, who had canary feathers in her mouth and a mouse caught between her paws had _nothing_ on this child.

 

It was very likely if things kept up that Solas would be attempting to recover his anchor from her corpse considering the level of frustration she was causing.

 

Still he reminded himself he was not Eluvian here, he was not Fen'Harel, and so he slipped into humble apostate, directed on opening a rift to attempt to close the larger..and fought the urge to rub his temples.

 

Because of course, the woman did nothing she should have. She looked at her hand, then him, then around.

 

“What if I opened a few? Closed them, then reopened?”

 

“We would be overwhelemed.” He felt his fingers spasm. No, he would not hit the idiot child.

 

“...Just for a bit.”

 

“No.”

 

Was he really having this argument?

()()()()()()()()

 

Din'ara blinked once. Slowly. Turned towards the massive breach.

 

Okay so the cranky Hahren was saying don't do the thing.

 

She was going to do the thing.

 

Screw being sensible. That wasn't her way when it was clearly a bad situation. Nodding to herself she took a deep breath and then ran at speeds most wouldn't match for the rift, opening and shutting them in tiny bursts along the way. The fluctuations did exactly what she thought. It was like lancing a wound, easing the pressure off and making it far easier to clean out. Not that they'd notice it now but it was evident to Din'ara something the size of the rift she needed to close, not the breach sadly, needed to be gentled before worked on. Otherwise who knew what would force it's way through? Maybe she just had a huge advantage since she knew how wounds worked and this breach really did seem more like an injury than anything else.

 

As it was there was a seeming flood of shades, rage demons, arcane horrors..nothing they hadn't all already beaten many a time. When one came to close she slammed it closer to another and disrupted their attacks, or straight into Cassandra's waiting weapons. The woman had chased after her, familiar with the way her fellow melee fighter ran right into the thick of things.

 

It did seem like as she inched the larger rift closed there was something big and angry on the other side but it couldn't force itself through the small opening and Din'ara took the time to stick out her tongue in it's direction, three angry eyes glaring back at her.

 

A final wrench of her hand, feeling like a cracked jug of water that had it all come pouring out of her as she fell to the ground and her eyes blurred.

 

Someone was scolding her. Someone else was laughing..there were people cheering.

 

“What was that?!” It was a cold furious voice. The sort she was used to hearing when she decided to do something stupid.

 

Din'ara couldn't focus on the apostate's face as her vision swam but she still grinned.

 

“Making do.” Din'ara passed out before she could hear the lecture.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

When Din'ara woke back up she was in a room. A door closing and foot steps leaving had clearly been what woke her and she struggled to sit up. Being without food and water for a day or so would weaken you and her body was quite content to inform her it had done that for a few days, again. Still she was somewhat clean. Not by much but someone had wiped down her face and arms, changed her clothes. Not bathed her, that was really pushing it. You didn't bathe unconscious people unless by wiping them fully little by little or they could drown and it was just messy and awkward. She could tell the most that had happened was her clothing had switched for the under layer and a newer shirt over it and someone had set out a basin of water and towel.

What did you expect? They were surrounded by snow and lugging a tub around was just plain foolish. Din'ara longed to wash her hair, it felt greasy and filthy still and a quick check in a nearby bit of polished brass showed yes, it was still very much browned. There wasn't anywhere near enough water in that basin for more than her face and neck, perhaps her hands before it turned into something only fit to dump in the plants. 

Content to do as needed and ignore the greasy and ash and dirt encrusted locks on her head for now, as she was used to long times in the wild where there was no good place to bathe and no clan to help watch out for dangers, Din'ara did her best and pulled on the outerwear left for her. She did ignore the boots. Her toes would feel horribly confined in them even if they would be warmer, and yawning she moved out the door.

Food. Food was the first priority.

Well that and getting used to the staring. 

“Pardon me miss Herald but they're waiting for you in the war room.” A boy piped up as he walked over, nervous, not daring to meet her eyes.

“Where?” She managed and winced. Drat. While sleeping her body had clearly relied on healing itself and leeching off the limited bits of her body fat she had. That meant it had healed to what it saw as normal..and the scar tissue was back.

Luckily the boy was all too excited to lead her, prattling on without ceasing the entire way. He took a few wrong turns in his excitement to look at her instead of where they were going but eventually she saw the building they were headed to.

She really wanted to eat first but waking up in a bed was a huge improvement to a cell and Din'ara decided to keep going with that. Besides, her hand was still glowing so she couldn't just sneak off yet.

Damn it.

The sound of arguing and yelling before a book was slammed down just as Din'ara walked in made her raise a brow. Leliana, Roderick, and Cassandra all snarling at each other. A few other figures in the room with very tense body language.

Roderick glanced at her, then back and reared up, drawing all of his tattered dignity around him. “I shall still send off for word of the new Divine contenders and update the chantry in Val Royeaux. Until one is chosen I shall keep an eye on this inquisition and I expect to have a say in advising things! Divine Justina trusted me there is no reason to cast aside my experience! You are trying to involve someone who has no head for these things and will be easily manipulated!”

Perhaps if she hadn't done such a good job on his robes he wouldn't have been so nice. Who knew. Instead it seemed they had all reached an impasse and a lithe woman of dark hair and skin skipped forward. Her greeting in dalish rolled off her tongue with a fluidity that was impressive and Din'ara nodded to her.

There was a heavy awkward silence before she locked eyes with Cassandra, and gestured to her own throat.

“Again? I thought you were healed..” Cassandra said sounding worried. 

With a sigh, and because it was really going to get worse the longer she held it a secret, Din'ara shrugged and let the glow of healcraft tingle along her fingers and work on her throat.

“It comes back. Side effect.” Din'ara looked at them, not at all surprised by the shift in expressions. They had seen a puppy dog and just realized she was instead some sort of predator. Of an entirely different species. Maybe a serpent the way that the male warrior was staring, as if he expected fangs dripping venom. “Can't do anything but heal.” She shrugged again. “Was damaged for such a long time as a child that's what my body thinks is normal. Not worth the effort to heal just to talk normally.”

“It is impossible for that to be your only power.” The man with the fur mantle stated as he walked over, eyes wary. 

“Damaged.” She shrugged again. 

“I wonder..” This time it came from Leliana as she circled her. “Damage to your throat I can understand, but is there any reason you can offer why your magic would be damaged? Indeed I thought that the apostate stated you had none.”

Din'ara rubbed her nose, ignoring the growl of her belly since everyone else was. Really. They were focused on that she could heal when her hand was glowing green. Humans. Well fine she'd give them what they asked and maybe they'd stop making her talk. “My mother was made tranquil when I was in her womb.”

The wide eyes were amusing and the utter silence that filled the room actually echoed. Much better.

“Wh..what..?” The little dark woman finally managed and broke the pleasant silence.

Din'ara saw no reason to repeat herself. She never healed her throat so fully it stopped hurting, after a point it really was a waste in energy considering she didn't actually enjoy talking.

“How..if she was carrying, no one would dare perform the rite. Not at such a risk.” Cullen began, but Roderick interrupted then.

“Perhaps if they thought the babe would house a demon. No, I have another idea...” He looked at her then. “It is said, that if a mage dies in the fade, in their dreams..”

Din'ara shrugged. Her mother was already tranquil when she was born but she didn't know the how or why, and not all bore the marks.

“This is not of pertinence. What it comes down to is you believe that your mother's undergoing the process of becoming tranquil rendered you unable to do anything but heal?” Cassandra asked, and then at Din'ara's nod hummed. “We shall make inquiries. I have never heard of such a thing but it is true you did not fight with magic and no one claimed to sense it...”

“Have you ever met a demon?” Cullen asked, sharp in tone and Din'ara gave the handsome blonde a look.

“Cassandra helped me kill many.” She drawled, worth the pain to get out the sarcasm as he flushed.

Her stomach growled again and this time someone actually sent off for some stew. Most the rest of the talking was speaking of how she was being referred to as a Herald of Andraste as the Divine was often called the Voice of Andraste, and she had been sent out of the rift by Justina. Really those facts were simple and while annoying, Din'ara realized she wasn't going to be able to convince people to abandon their delusions. Her disgusted face at the title did seem to ease up Roderick's mood further.

In the end, Din'ara could recognize that she was rather stuck with these crazies and speaking up on her opinion would gently, but completely, get ignored so she just kept quiet.

Apparently she was going to the Hinterlands in a few days. ….great.  
()()()()()()

Varric took to telling her stories and that meant following her around as she got a feel for Haven beyond that of a servant knowing exactly which rooms to run to, to do so. They must have made quite the sight. Since she didn't actually respond verbally, something he assured her he had a lot of practice with and her expressions helped. “Least you don't just snarl and growl..had a broody elf that did that come to think of it he had white hair too..and I had to learn if it meant I need to kill something or my ale is almost empty..” He was still trying to find a nickname for her and honestly quite a few of them had Din'ara cracking smiles. So far she'd been dubbed Trouble, Mouse, Crazy, Glowy, Glowbug, and What the heck is wrong with you kid?

Cassandra had left her alone. They were both melee fighters, they worked well together, and they didn't need to speak much. The revelation that her mother was tranquil and it probably had permanently altered her own magic was a topic it seemed everyone in the war room had been left uncomfortable over. They weren't talking to her much for it and it was a blessed welcome. While she could enjoy Varric's company in small parts, she was naturally a introverted person who had not exactly grown up in a loving supportive environment and just didn't get people. When your mother was tranquil and you almost never spoke, despite all the times she'd lived with others it was always on the outskirts and they rarely had sought her out. The polite distance all the humans had with her was fine. The creepy awe and staring ones? Not so much.

Solas? He for one did not think for a moment that any mage unaware of being pregnant would have the sort of power needed to affect their babe so upon becoming tranquil and scoffed at the idea to her face. Indeed since he'd heard the word he'd nearly treated Din'ara as if she was mentally damaged herself Tranquil or the like. Heavy disdain dripped from every word he said to her. Solas had attempted to pin her down and lecture her as if she'd never heard of spirits, demons, or the Fade after being briefed on her apparently 'broken' magic. The bald elf seemed to think it was due to her lack of intelligence 'Perhaps from a lack of oxygen during the time that the umbilical cord was wrapped around your neck as an infant..it could have been for a long time in the womb..' her lack of training 'You didn't claim to be the Keeper's first and even then I find the Dalish have a woefully lacking understanding of how to use their powers..' and at once her lack of interest. Currently. She was playing it up a little but if he was going to annoy her, she was going to return the favor.

“You know I have had sons of kings who would have thrown their crown at my feet to learn what I have tried to impart to you.” He grumbled at her once, when he was convinced she was ignoring him.

Din'ara glanced over, lifting a brow. Thankfully black and not brown again, she'd finally gotten that bath and the reaction to seeing her with white and black hair for some reason had only solidified this idea that she'd come out of the Fade different. After all the servants remembered her only as brown haired. She didn't bother to correct them. It took too much effort and people always believed what they wanted anyways.

“I have learned.” She bit out, ignoring the burn of her voice, the cracking sound. 

Solas frowned at her. “I just healed that yesterday..again.” It seemed to cause him great offense that his healing did not last and it made Din'ara roll her eyes.

“Constant.” The fewer words she used the easier but it still burned. 

“Why do you not heal it yourself before you talk.” Oh yes he'd been particularly tetchy over that little bit of information.

Din'ara scowled at him but yielded. She did not need to actually reach up and touch her throat or put on the light show but she did it anyways. Din'ara did not trust a single person there at this point and it not being known she automatically healed without direction, and could do so without the usual obvious display were small secrets she kept close to her chest. “pointless.”

“...Pointless. How do you expect to get across any information, to ask, to learn if you do not open your mouth!?” Solas growled at her. Apparently she was adept at pushing him past his sanity. 

Din'ara huffed, still without actually making a sound and glared down at her feet, the patterns in the snow from where so many had been walking earlier. “Never around many.”

“You came from a Clan you said. Lavellan?” Solas changed his approach and tried to soften his voice, just a little. He did this when he wanted to wheedle more words out of her, information. She was no fool, it was something that those who spoke too often did and she just rubbed at the bridge of her nose. If people listened more than they spoke they'd have started to realize how much they subconsciously or not tried to manipulate each other.

“...why.”

“Did you not talk with them?”

At that Din'ara sneered, before she shrugged. “One. Hahren Vinta.”

Solas groaned. “Please. Would it kill you, da'len, to speak in full sentences?”

Din'ara gave up and healed her throat fully for now. He was worse than a dog with a bone. It seemed only answering him to Solas's satisfaction would give her any measure of peace. It was like he was bound and determined to pull any information out of her beyond a greeting that he could. As though she was one of the only interesting people in all of Haven. It confused her. Did people do that? Decide to talk to one person, exhaust all possible conversations, and then return a few hours later as if magically they could go through them again for either different results or as if some new bit of information would be repeated? It was something she'd noticed Varric do as well with others.

Weird.

“I lived on the outskirts of Clan Lavellan for eight years. They tolerated me as a healer but because I had magic that made no sense they ostracized me just as much.” She finally said and it was completely monotone as she did so. She was rewarded by seeing him flinch slightly. “I was politely asked to send information on the conclave but not come back and they wouldn't look for me. There was a single hahren whom I spent time around.” The parallel seemed to strike him as he looked away. It was different though because Solas was harassing her for information whereas Hahren Vinta had been patient, letting her choose what to share and how.

“I prefer not to talk. It hurts, even if I heal it the feeling of speaking is strange. No one really cares what I say anyways, they all have their own ideas and either I prove them right or they are upset that I do not.” Din'ara's gaze never left Solas's face as she scowled. Clearly, she was ready for him to either ask his next question or leave her be.

“I did not mean for it to come out all so..” He sighed. “My apologies.” 

Din'ara did not reply. Pointedly. 

This time the silence remained so and instead Solas just stayed to keep her company, sending small wisps of power out, as if to try and entice her into asking questions as he created little light shows.  
()()()()()()

Infuriating. Solas had never thought it possible for someone to annoy him with silence. The mousy brown haired creature he'd first met had transformed with little more than a tub of water and soap into someone peculiar. Indeed he'd heard the rumors that it was from being 'touched by the Divine' and only the eye rolls of the newest 'Herald' over the fuss kept him from sneering over it all. Her skin was pale but seemed darker when in contrast to the shockingly white tresses. Ones that had a few wide black streaks from the bottom as if fingers of shadows reaching up to grasp at her. They were artless, too erratic to be anything but natural but made no sense. The striations were vertical but did not go to the roots instead stopping at about her shoulder height, and while she had clearly shown no hesitation to hide her hair color the black of her brows and lashes made it seem like she just grew a strange patterned fur from her head to her hips rather than hair. 

She still wore the same Dalish hunters gear, a more practical type than was popular in recent decades and if not for the lack of markings may have been easier to ignore. Somehow paired with the glow of his anchor upon her palm and infuriating silent tendencies..she was antithesis to everything that made sense. She was Dalish but not, a warrior who fought with crude bludgeoning weapons with a methodical finesse that was almost surgical in precision. She had magic so fractured and broken he couldn't even sense a whisper of it and it apparently would only heal. And did so in a way that actually harmed her. 

The child of a tranquil, some new horror he had never even thought of. Was this further destruction of his people's legacy to be the next common ground? It was possible. Indeed if word got out that even once there had been a suspicion of making a mage unable to use other areas of study by tranquilizing their parent before they were born a rash of such actions would break out. It was why he was so determined to break her through her likely self imposed barriers and prevent such things from ever coming to pass. Unfortunately, it appeared her stubborn streak was well established.

He had been informed by Cassandra herself that they would be going with the Herald into the Hinterlands. No one was asking the silent woman to talk because if anything was clear, it was that she found this entire process ridiculous. Indeed Solas only found in wanting this all over and done with the single common area that he shared with her. 

He took to spiraling the ice in a simple curved sculpture with a twist of his thought, and she sat ever watchful and silent beside him. Even though what he was doing was a crude work of a child compared to the finesse and grace he'd once directed powers without a full devotion of thought it was eons beyond what those around him should be capable of. Still she did not ask, did not laugh or make a sound save for soft breathing, the occasional whoosh of air if she sighed or laughed without actually creating the noise. Her attention was on what he was doing, but she did not even subconsciously try to mimic or follow the outpour of magic.

She should have. It was an instinctive thing, part of why mages argued when brought together as they tried to align how they sensed and worked with the Fade, much like the snow flakes no two were alike. Yet aside from her watching with her eyes, ever half hidden under her lashes, there was no other interaction.

That she was telling the truth and her mana could only follow one route was so preposterous, and terrifying that he simply refused to accept it. It would be like removing ones fingers because a hand only needed a wrist and palm to get the title. The idea was sickening, and he had thought the disturbing way all the elves around him seemed like tranquil, not real souls at all, was a disaster to fix.

For his own sanity, he needed to get her to break through whatever barriers she had mentally erected keeping her from the full use of the Fade. That he could fail was something Solas simply would not consider.  
()()()()()

The Hinterlands were actually fairly pleasant if you asked Din'ara, though assuredly no one else would agree. They were vast, quiet, and aside from the stupid tasks people kept asking of them, very few people lived there which had her feeling far more at ease than the bustle of Haven. Although the first night they'd gone to camp and she'd promptly upped her way into a tree and settled in...

And Din'ara had thought the furor over her lack of anything but a simple pack and her usual worn attire and weapons had been a big deal! Really that they were taking tents and things made no sense to her, but Cassandra had muttered something about Dalish, Varric had started cackling about moonlight dances and flower crowns and Solas had as usual, looked utterly disturbed.

Din'ara had ignored them and happily settled down on a branch, a bit of rope to help keep her secured, and tugging her cloak closer had nodded off when first watch was done. She'd pelted Varric's tent with a peach pit from her snack to wake him for his watch and the way he'd stared, especially when Din'ara followed it up when he'd emerged with an apple tossed at his head -he'd caught it of course- had made her grin.

Especially because Varric still didn't know that she'd used fruit as a weapon before. No one ever expected it.

In general though Cassandra's fretting over if the scouts, villagers, and the like including Mother Giselle would be troubled by her lack of speech, was fruitless. Harding had been willing to just hand over the information and shoo them on, the villagers really told you too much about themselves as if just so excited that someone even wanted to ask them anything, and run stupid errands for them. And Mother Giselle?

Well apparently there were a great number of parts to the chant that dealt in silence and an old sect had even existed that took vows not to speak. Now Din'ara had to hear far too much about them, but if anything Mother Giselle seemed more pleased that she preferred to listen instead of speak even when she had a way to do so. 

There was something very cunning about the old woman that Din'ara recognized as dangerous but considering she was literally letting a powerful apostate, a dwarf with an itchy trigger finger, and a powerful warrior woman see her at her most vulnerable..well Din'ara was pretty certain her idea of what was safe had been fully destroyed. It had been bad before all of this started.

So done playing errand girl and tag alongs, they were heading back to Haven. On mounts. That she could not ride.

The only advantage was when three sets of eyes fell on her waiting to see if she fell off or walked funn were not treated to any entertainment when she just hopped off and went about figuring how the sadle was put on so she could remove it.

“You aren't sore?” Varric asked and the little shit seemed upset at the lack of teasing he could do. Din'ara gave one of her silent sighs before croaking out.

“Healer.”

“I thought it was a waste of energy to heal your throat, enough to speak coherently?” Solas asked with a deceptively light tone. Din'ara just shrugged and proceeded to not answer. Through the pantomime that Varric had become astute at he figured it out by the time they were eating.

“So you never rode on the fancy halla? I guess you are pretty good on your feet..leave it to the weaker and younger huh?” 

Din'ara's nod had been confirmation as she skinned the rabbits Bianca'd shot for them. 

“I have a question, though I have waited long to ask..” Cassandra added in, the pause clearly waiting to see if Din'ara was going to be willing to talk. A black brow raised and Cassandra finished her thought, aware that their silent Herald was not against the idea. Really it seemed it was only Solas she took a sort of delight in never speaking to. Then again with how the apostate rankled at the slight, and how much more chatty he had become in response, neither dwarf nor human could say it didn't liven things up a little.

“Why is it you tend to only stun, or knock unconscious any we are fighting against?” 

The other two were paying attention now as well, having come to a similar conclusion but no one told a warrior how to fight, and walked away without injury. Din'ara's hand went up and the faint glow of healing magic occurred. A little longer, a little brighter. As much capitulation to the coming conversation as anything and making it clear to them.

“I heal. I do not enjoy the act of killing, indeed it feels terribly like going against my nature.”

“Renders your name incredibly ironic as well as misfortunate...” Solas added in, leading.

“What does Din'ara mean, glow bug?” Varric took the skinned hare from her and started to skewer it.

“Desiring Death, or Death's Desire depending on your interpretation.” Solas supplied with the casual dismissal of one convinced the other would mistranslate.

“That..is an awful name for a child.” Cassandra said aghast and then her eyes widened and the awkwardness fell upon the campsite.

Din'ara though was feeling more sarcastic after a few days away from any save her small party and her lips twisted into an amused grin. “When I was old enough to understand what being tranquil was I thought maybe my mother meant it literally..you know, because I was with her when she was made tranquil and that literally kills off desire, and emotion in general. She told me that isn't what it was but because she had no interest in explaining..” She shrugged then, as if the hurt was so old and faded it honestly didn't strike her as strange.

“And you can only heal but your name is kind of more like one for a crazy necromancer.” Varric blinked, then snorted. “Irony loves you doesn't it, glow bug?”

For an answer Din'ara waved her glowing palm at him. 

“Fair point. So if not for the glowing and and all would you be part of the inquisition?”

Din'ara finished cleaning her skinning knife and paused. Tilting her head and staring into the fire as she thought. She did not like to speak casually, though she would when in a sarcastic or mischievous mood. “Possibly. It is too loud, too crowded in Haven.”

“Yeah I noticed you like sneaking off and getting away from it all. Your ears that sensitive?”

“I have not lived with many before, even the Clans that allowed me on the outskirts did not often include me.”

“You were not apart of the Clan, Lavellan?” Solas asked, and the faintest irritation came through his voice. He had asked essentially this before. 

“In truth I have no Clan, no family. My mother lives, but there has never truly been affection as she can't feel it and its hard to care for someone who honestly cannot bring themselves to worry or think as more than a simalacrum.” Her casual word choice confused Varric and Cassandra but Solas's eyes narrowed. That was an unusual description. Generally one said 'undead' or 'golem.' Simalacrum were highly advanced studies in magic generally created by powerful mages back in the days of Elvhenan and later copied by vast quantities of Tevinter Blood magic. They were extensions of the mage themselves, able to collect information much as his own journeys into the Fade did.

“So when you got scrapes as a little brat?” Varric asked.

Din'ara gave him a confused expression. “Well I healed them. Obviously.”

“No, when you were little glow bug.”

Din'ara shifted. It was a strange thing to see her nervous, but she was. Guilty almost. “I don't remember being taught healing until much later but it was only to learn..better. I always could in my early memories. And my mother saying it was a good thing.”

The sheer amount of implied neglect there was sobering and reminded the party they were asking unimportant and highly personal questions. Cassandra shifted the topic.

“Whom taught you to fight? It is a an unusual style.”

Din'ara's face melted into a soft genuine smile only then letting them see what it would look like. She had not, truly, relaxed or smiled around them until then. “I don't have a name for him. He was just Hahren to me, but he would teach me whenever I was free to go to him. We worked with other weapons but as I do not wish to kill he figured blunt was best for me. People expect knives and blades, they don't clubs and maces. More things can be made into such a weapon in a pinch as well.”

“And your..aim?” Cassandra asked with that tiny grin that startled a laugh from Din'ara. It was silent, as they usually were, ones she was used to holding back the sound on and so just her body shook as her mouth opened but nothing emerged.

“Yeah. I'm good with a sling.”

“Hmmm.” Cassandra gave her a teasing grin that left the mean out of it. “You seem to enjoy using food to summon us out of our tents for watch.”

“Snacks do seem to work as an incentive.” 

Even Solas had to snicker at that one. Being pelted awake with the sound of rocks hitting his tent, and then knowing to catch whatever fruit was launched at his head was indeed a good way to ensure they were awake when beginning watch. If completely absurd.

“So back to the topic you don't like to kill so you tend to knock out your opponents..as long as they are human, elfin, or dwarven..you think you'd hesitate on a Qunari?” Cassandra's voice was still amused but she wanted her question answered.

“No idea.” Din'ara said simply. “Depends on what they feel like. Haven't been near one.”

“Feel like?” Solas asked, curious if this was another area she was crippling her magic through her misconceptions.

Din'ara's eyes flashed over to him, less than amused. “I sense people. Injuries. Even small and old ones.” She grimaced then and shuddered. “It's why I try not to strike the killing blow.”

“...animals?” Varric asked suddenly gentle in his tone. She'd flat out croaked the first time he'd asked if she could hunt that she was not good at it but would gather. Din'ara sighed and nodded, and another mystery was lain to rest.

No wonder she had never hunted with the Dalish or now, yet she did not shy away from cleaning the kills or helping loot or bury the dead after their battles.

“You sense injuries..you try not to kill.” Solas could not let this go, he was curious. “Perhaps a form of latent necromancy that you are unconsciously suppressing? It was entirely possible especially with your use of the term Simalacrum earlier..”

“No.” Din'ara snapped and it was sharp. Cold. Commanding and utterly unlike her. Solas bristled at the tone and locked eyes with her, his own spine straightening at her utterance before he could think. 

Din'ara had a cold resoluteness to her though. Steel and mithril laced her veins as she tilted her chin down. A baring of her teeth, feral. Wild. Determined.

Entirely against his will a faint shiver of pleasure went down his spine at seeing her so..implacable. Solas had always relished a challenge.

“Then what..do you suggest?” He all but purred at her, curious. Indeed her pupils widened, likely not a signal she even knew she was giving off anymore than the faintest blush to her cheeks. It was always interesting when the quiet ones had hidden secrets.

Din'ara scowled at him and Solas was quite certain if she was closer he'd be dodging a blow. If she had been a rogue, perhaps a blade.

He'd forgotten her strange tendencies.

Solas's hand snapped up and caught the ripe plum, bruising it slightly and just blinked at her. “You threw a plum at me..”

For some reason this set off Cassandra into snorts and peals of laughter and the dwarf was no better. Regally the she-elf lifted her jaw but it was a challenge, that flash of her pale throat, not a movement of yielding. It was directly in contrast to the levity and mirth rendering their companions eyes closed and Solas found himself looking at the smooth skin of her neck. Whether he was tempted by the more carnal aspects inherent, or to wrap his fingers around it and choke the life from her was equally possible.

Din'ara spoke softly, only loud enough that with the chortles around them his own elfin ears could detect her words.

“My healing detects when they are beyond my help. Every time it feels like a failure, that they were an enemy does not matter.” Din'ara scowled at him then, her eyes judging as any Dalish but it was her words that actually cut. Not that she could know how deeply. “Only the most corrupt look at the lives around them as coin to be bartered and passed about instead of that each is a life forever lost to all the magic out there. I cannot save them, and that burden I bear even if they wished to kill me.”

Only the most corrupt indeed. 

Solas answered with a raised brow and bit into the plum. It may have been bruised but it was still sweet. He honestly had half expected her to start finding ones that were infested but she had yet to sink to such a level.

She didn't speak to any of them again on the journey back to Haven. The next time it was his turn for watch, he almost didn't dodge the incoming orange either. 

“You annoyed our little fruit bat?”Varric asked knowingly as they rode beside each other at one point.

“Fruit bat?”

“Well yeah. She's got this obsession with using them as a weapon..and it makes the Seeker laugh like no ones business. I heard them grinning over something about a tray too..”

Solas pinched the bridge of his nose. Really. All the beauties in the millenia he had lived, the many years since he had awakened once more..and it was the damaged one who tried to pelt him with produce that had drawn his eye.

“I think I'll take you up on that drink back in Haven, master Tethras.”


	3. Chapter 3

AN: You know at 3 chapters this is as far ahead as the ninth chapter of Jackal in the Shadows. All because Din'ara doesn't like to talk. That's kinda freaking hilarious.

()()()()

 

The choice to wait a week and then go to Val Royeaux was a decision of course, made without the Herald. Din'ara's response to being 'informed' by the admittedly sweet Josephine that she had to attend and the number of potential faux pas that she could commit was to simply vanish.

 

Not entirely of course, and Chancellor Roderick was rather smug that instead of the young brats running this farce of an Inquisition he was the only one with any real idea of where their wayward Herald may be. The expression on the lauded spymistress's face when he waited to calmly interject was..immensely satisfying.

 

“Have you checked with the servants?”

 

Utter silence met him, even the dwarf, for of course he and that elfin apostate had been dragged into the meeting to try and locate the mostly mute woman. There had been more than a few 'how does someone who literally has a glowing green hand not get seen?' tossed around in the past few hours.

 

“Why would we check there?” Cullen finally asked, the least aggravating of his newest forced allies, Roderick had to admit. The boy was devoted to the Chant and he found common ground there even if he was floundering on the whole sticky situation regarding mages.

 

“You all forget that Din'ara started here as a servant. They were the ones who knew she did not like to speak, she did not enjoy company.” He had always paid attention to the servants, it is why he recognized a truly gifted hand when he'd seen Din'ara's mending to his insanely expensive robe. It had been a gift and an unfortunate incident with a carriage door had left Roderick in a very unseemly situation not able to wear it when last he'd visited the benefactor. Roderick gestured with his hand, unconsciously seeming pompous but he had spoken the chant for so many decades now grandiose gestures were heavily worked into his daily actions.

 

“To them, at least her fellow elves, she is still the one they knew with an additional few changes. Why would she not seek solace amongst them?”

 

Leliana of course, dispatched spies to check. Roderick knew what they would find though. Really, these younglings.

()()()()()

 

Din'ara was indeed in the servants barracks which was just a converted cellar in Haven below the store rooms. Dirt floors and bare walls with only a few small lanterns to be spared. The bed rolls and few cots tucked away for now. Huddled in thick layers of many worn cloaks draped over them all like blankets and perched on barrels and crates it was a casual group. Much more simple fare then the rest of Haven ate, though it was better than it had been, one of the few things she had insisted on _loudly_ and damn the pain, when Josephine had asked if she wanted anything. Platters of the dark hearty bread, the meat stuffs that those who had never gone hungry would turn their noses up at. The edges and leftovers of the cheeses, all of that remained the same. The watered down wine and ale was passed freely as no one really trusted to drink standing water and not have someone think poisoning the lot of them wasn't a bit of fun.

 

Aside from her now visibly white and black hair and the glowing hand though, and being cleaner than the rest, Din'ara was still the one they'd known. She still relaxed and smiled to them, gave silent laughs. Her hands were the first to help portion out the meals and offer part of her cloak up to a newcomer who was chilled so they may huddle against her side and borrow the heat of her form. After her belly was full and she desired no more to drink she'd pulled out thread and needles and tired fingers from working for their human masters were all too happy to pass over their own mending so they could stay warm. To the lull of soft songs, little pleasant sparks of hope that flickered around her, Din'ara lost herself in the rare sense of belonging.

 

If her mending took on curls and swirled designs instead of simple stitches, it only earned her hugs and smiles of thanks from those who often never had anything save a wedding attire to treasure until they passed it on to a relative.

 

Likewise, information that she was a healer had been a very poorly kept secret once the war council knew it and Din'ara made time every night she was in Haven to sneak over and check on her fellow elves who made a living as servants. To ensure cuts and bruises were tended, sore muscles pulled too far were eased.

 

To those who managed to catch sight, it was...peculiar. The lauded Herald serving the servants.

 

And of course, one elf who slipped in with the long practice of one going where they should not, frowned. For here was someone with the chance to elevate her kind among the humans and instead she was huddled here in the dirt and the grime only easing their daily struggle not improving it.

 

Solas did not approve of her actions. However, he knew he had pushed her as far as he currently dared and so he did not confront the woman. Yet.

()()()()()()

 

“You will not be entering an easy situation. The loss of the Divine created a huge struggle between the factions of the chantry mother's.” Roderick was instructing Din'ara with the actually useful information. She was perched in a comfortable chair in his office, the infamous robe in her hands as she carefully matched the complex embroidery. Really, Cassandra was wonderful, Leliana was efficient but it had been thus far Roderick who recognized that Din'ara would be used and had been thus far and gave her information for the more important task of surviving and keeping her head down. She was not the sort who would be in fame and glory and perhaps because of that as much as her skills with a needle and thread, he had taken her well being in hand.

 

It was the position one devout to the Chant should have, after all and the fact she had never claimed anything other than actions by Divine Justina that caused the events to now have her as Herald were circumstances that Roderick could accept. And Roderick knew full well of how she tended to the servants, and unlike many he saw there the real sign of perhaps what Divine Justina would have been the most proud of. She had chosen better than she'd known in the chaos when she sent forward an unknown back to them.

 

“There's likely to be a public display calling you out. Be certain you have healed your throat before you enter Val Royeaux's gates.” Roderick continued, penning letters for her to take with her. Ones for his contacts, to explain things and while it would likely be much to his advantage she had no reason not to do so. It wasn't as if she personally felt she owed _anyone_ anything. “Also, should you end up dragged into any formal event or encounter be certain you get a mask. There are shops, just get a plain colored one without any decoration. You do not wish to cause accidental insult claiming something you do not have a right to. There are lots of groups who will try to curry favor, promise nothing. Direct them all to Leliana, much as she is a nuisance she was the left hand for a reason. Your race and misfortune are already against you but in this your tendencies towards silence will serve you well. Orleisans play games with words and expressions that they will turn entirely around.”

 

There was no way the robe would be finished anytime soon. Not with the multitude of necessary thread colors and intricate stitching but she was working on it diligently.

 

A soft nod of her head and Roderick continued. “They are ruthless about the alienage so do be cautious not to be out at night. Nothing we can do for that apostate, Pentaghast is no better considering she's about as useful in delicate situations as your mace.”

 

Din'ara looked up, raising a brow. Roderick smirked. “Do try not to throw any food. But also, they have small pastries there. I think you'll like them.”

 

Din'ara gave him a wry grin, catching the subtle plea to bring some back.

 

She left a few hours later with a bundle of letters to take with her in the coming week and feeling as if she wasn't entirely walking blind into the next forced situation.

()()()()()()

 

It was inevitable really, that she slept too deeply one day. Along with the way her mana worked when awake it had also warped her interactions with the Fade at times. Fortunately it was before they left Haven but the undulating hues of green that marked the Fade comforted Din'ara. She was dimly aware that she was too deep into it again, that hadn't occurred since before she had left clan Lavellan. Here her throat had never been damaged and yet she found silence was exceptionally powerful in the fade.

 

Yawning, and stretching briefly she saw a bright thread not far. Reaching up and grasping it in hand she then easily followed the glowing trail. The Fade was full of spirits, many of them friendly. However, her strange mana again took form here and it seemed most demons and spirits could not sense her. Or the scant few sensed her so strongly they were always startled she was not fade born herself. Apparently she had a rather 'indistinct' appearance to them much as they seemed to her.

 

“Little one.”

 

Din'ara smiled and inclined her head. The massive form before her was that of some great shaggy beast long extinct from Thedas before anyone had thought to write down words of it. Strands of coiled light branched off, like errant thoughts, from the ancient spirit. “Greetings. You shine brightly.” She said and perhaps it was because she thought her voice should be lower, a bit husky and scratchy from her damaged cords but always did it sound that way here. Thankfully, no pain occurred.

 

“My thanks. You are mortal.” It was a curious tone, and the immense form shifted again, a good dozen eyes locked onto her but the light truly was so bright it was an impossibility to define the figure's build. Save she had the impression of long coarse fur. Compact in frame. “Rare does a mortal both hide and glitter as star dust.”

 

“My magic only heals.” She explained and where all the mages she had met would cry out and demand an explanation it seemed spirits always took it differently.

 

“Ah. You are a new breed then. Curious. Not a spirit healer..no..there is no spirit nestled along your soul..”

 

“What was and never would be, hidden and then struck down. I'm the result.” She explained, cutting her riddle short.

 

“Your name?”

 

“Din'ara.”

 

“Oh?” There was a flicker along the edges of the form's light, laughter. “Elvhen descended. I see.” It understood from her name, it quite possibly could make out her form no better than Din'ara could it's own.

 

“I've wandered a bit too far and deeply again I think.”

 

“Happen often?”

 

Din'ara nodded, amused herself at the issue. “There was speculation I should have been Sominari if my powers did not cling so solely to healing.”

 

“And why is it then not possible? There are those who walk the fade, wander it. Then there are those who meld with it and separate once more. Those are Sominari. No, you are something new. Curious. I shall enjoy seeing you again. For now I shall give you the push back to your flesh and blood shell you require.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

She woke up the next breath. Not only that but to a very worried face of a servant girl. Tears and babbling later someone finally explained that she'd been unconscious two days. Asleep and they couldn't wake her. Solas had been about ready to try and seek her out in the Fade and from how he was lurking by her door she just knew he was going to be irritating until she answered his questions. Not that she really blamed any of them, knowing someone may not wake up in the morning did tend to alarm people.

 

It took far too long to convince Solas she had always gone too far into the Fade, no she had no idea of the time that she had lost it felt like moments, no it didn't happen all the time. Finally, perhaps catching on to her glaring as he ranted yet again, she simply consented at night he could enter her dreams and ensure she woke every morning.

 

He seemed far too pleased at the idea. As if it's something he had planned to do anyways but now had permission. Really, the bald male was far too smug over it and giving in to anything he wanted rubbed her the wrong way. She made a point of packing extra fruit for the trip.

 

When Cassandra found the extra items in her own bags, the Seeker all but howled in laughter. She did not however, argue helping to carry it.

()()()()()()()

They made excellent time. With Cassandra and Din'ara being melee fighters and a rogue and a mage any who thought to waylay them soon were killed or unconscious. Din'ara was making up for the fact she knew she'd have to talk in the city with staying very much closed mouthed and using every effort possible to sleep so lightly Solas hadn't been able to visit her.

 

In contrast, he was getting rather cranky over it. It probably shouldn't have pleased her that much, but Din'ara had no problems admitting she could be a shallow and petty woman.

()()()()()()

 

Walking into Val Royeaux was easy enough. Din'ara also felt almost ashamed of how unperturbed she was at the woman hollering about her being a heretic and clearly expecting her to justify her actions.

Apparently the correct answer to all of the insults was exactly what had flown out of her mouth, and since none of her party had seen her heal her throat earlier the three actually jumped in surprise when she started talking.

 

“I never claimed anything other than the Divine sent me back.” Really, she hadn't. But the easy dismissal had thrown the ranting woman, enough she'd stepped over to talk to her and then the group of templars had shown up and riled up the situation. Din'ara had just let Cassandra and Varric handle most of it.

 

Then there was the wild chase for the Red Jenny's, now that she thought was fun. The more silly the tasks the less her party was amused, the more Din'ara felt like laughing. She got it. She was being shown the parts of Val Royeaux that would not only help her get a better feel for the place but assist the regular folk. It was 'normalizing' her to this person.

 

It was entirely inevitable that Solas had accepted Fiona's invitation rather than consult her, but Din'ara had been too interested in puzzling out the next part of her map anyways.

 

The accumulation in meeting Sera made Din'ara blink at her.

 

“Hey shady lady bits.” Sera said as they finished off the last of the pantsless fools they'd been fighting off. Din'ara turned and raised an eyebrow, still grinning.

 

“No breeches.” Din'ara agreed.

 

“Hehehe...you seems like not too elfy.” Sera agreed and then something horrible happened for Thedas.

 

Din'ara smirked. “Should have stolen their shoes.”

 

“Oh Socks n smalls! That's perfect!” Sera grinned and walked over, gripping Din'ara's shoulder. “I'm gonna join up. Cuz you do shit for the people people and people need people!”

 

“Map?”

 

“Sure. Save time from wandering in circles and goin all fuchaky what this doin here.” The two girls seemed to understand each other just fine as Sera pulled out another horribly drawn map of the area and Din'ara was tracing a route back to Haven for her.

 

“cold as tits?”

Din'ara nodded and Sera groaned. “Well that'd be good for lookin long as don't go pokin me eyes out on a nice rack but crimp the bits when comin to layers.”

 

“Wait..so we have one who makes no sense, and the one who doesn't like to talk. And they can communicate.” Varric visibly shivered. “I need ale. A lot of ale.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not sorry for the insanity.

AN: I have zero apologies for Sera making your eyes bleed. Zero.

()()()()()()()()()()

 

The trip back to Haven was going swiftly considering they had over a week before the saloon event to figure out if they even absolutely had to send Din'ara. That they needed the consultation of Josephine and Leliana for as no one was fooled that paired with a self assured Orleisian Enchantress Din'ara was just as likely to throw a glass of wine in her face as smile. Cassandra's amused discomfort over the insanity that had been Sera was smoothed over with a few shrugs and smiles as answers to the Seeker's queries on why she had been accepted. Really, considering that Cassandra had zero problems with Din'ara launching fruit at people as a known method to settle confrontations she was only faintly more perturbed over the admittedly confusing words of the low brow fellow female elf. One who had apparently gotten lost not far out of town 'It's not right all this nature shite out here! Where's the signs!?' and just tagged along with them though she was muttering to herself at the moment about how to keep bees alive in a jar.

 

It hadn't been any good to have suggestions over her meeting up with them later, or potentially not at all. “No one told ya to flap your gums.” Had been Sera's comment before she'd ignored them. Oddly, it had been almost comforting and it took a while for the party to realize why the dismissal seemed familiar.

 

Din'ara also did not care one bit what others thought.

 

Solas had yet to catch her sleeping deeply enough to venture into the Fade and while Din'ara was tired, she counted it as a victory. He was catching on and the number of severe disapproving expressions he'd send her way every morning only made the mostly silent Herald grin wickedly at him. That she'd taken to drinking bitter tea to stay awake and it made the bald elf grimace at the smell only encouraged her.

Sera had noticed, and started drinking it too. Loudly. Slurping. _Moaning._ Which would just set off Din'ara into silent laughter and then no one could get a word in edgewise as Sera would begin chattering off the ears of all those present if she wasn't in the back muttering to herself. It started to make even the usually chattier members of the party emulate their leader more in their quiet adoption of enjoying the rare peace.

 

Varric had gotten to the point he was signing. Constantly. Because Sera would at times join in and her signs at least made sense unlike her speech but lately she was lagging behind muttering on bees. This obsession with bees was starting to worry him.

 

'You know he's going to blow his top.'

 

'I look forward to it. Think he'll go the lecturing parent route? Threaten to take a hand or belt to me?' Din'ara sent the most lewd grin Varric had seen out of her yet and the dwarf choked. Truly, the silent ones were always underestimated. If Chuckles thought he'd be able to force her in line he was in for a very long, and in the end fruitless, wait. Fruitless. Hah!

 

'He may offer to spank you.' Varric signed back and was treated to the sight of the Herald doubling over on her legs (because they'd forgone the mounts in order to make better time with shortcuts horses couldn't have used) in convulsions of silent laughter. At the confused expressions of the Seeker, and the faintly curious but still looking entirely unamused expression of the apostate, Varric verbally explained.

 

“I said you may spank her.” He smirked at Solas. The shade of red he blushed went all the way over his scalp. Curious.

 

“For....?” Cassandra asked trying to hide the level of humor she had. “Pelting him with plums as has been her want?”

 

“Thought she'd switched to citrus?” Varric asked, curious.

 

“She has.” Solas ventured his tone entirely without inflection and still flushed. Varric enjoyed casting his eyes from the slight form of one elf to the next, truly the two were comedy of the explosive sort without any interference.

 

“Went bad.” Din'ara offered in her scratchy tone that always sent everyone's shoulder's tensing from sympathy. For whatever reason she felt healing herself, and sparing the pain of speaking that way, a waste.

 

“My appreciation then, for not having rotten items flung at my head though I am admittedly not terribly fond of limes. Or lemons.” Solas said and from the sudden stiffness to the Seeker's form Varric realized she _knew_ the slang for smutty romance.

 

Oho...

Now that was a nice tidbit of information. _Always the silent ones..._

 

Din'ara glanced over at Solas and lifted a brow. “Don't deserve. Yet.” The butchering of her sentences always made the older elf scowl but he'd ceased badgering her to just heal her throat and speak properly. Perhaps he was hoping to head off the clearly incoming nonsense with Sera. If so, though it made Varric himself despair, he could have warned him there was no hope.

 

Now for just a moment the dwarf wondered about if Din'ara ever met Daisy or Fenris...

 

Hawke had ended up hiding in Starkhaven and since somehow she'd actually kept her betrothal to Chantry Boy under wraps no one had ever thought to look there. Just goes to show how everyone thought Ander's obsession with the Champion had been returned. Then again, for love of his friend, he hadn't revealed that part of her love life. Well and he didn't need to be accused of ruining a Prince of Starkhaven's reputation.

 

So yes. Picturing Din'ara with Daisy..not so hard. They'd probably sit there with Merrill waxing on about everything and nothing and Din'ara just nodding along with it. At some point though Sera probably would start that whole bit on peaches and take Merrill to the back and he did not want to think on that at all so..Fenris?

 

“Huh.”

 

“Something to share, dwarf?” Cassandra drawled and he decided to take a page from his 'fearless glowing leader' and her tag along of crazy bee loving and just say whatever. Cassandra did seem to be loosening up a lot when around fruit bat.

 

“Just thinking that there's a good chance a friend of mine would either try to kill Fruit Bat here or slam her into a wall to ravish her. After a long build up of denial.”

 

“Elf?” Din'ara asked and there was no blush on her face. The completely casual reaction made the other two pay attention. Cassandra had even turned around. Really. Did they _not_ get that the silent ones were the ones to look out for? Varric had pegged Glowy as naughty as much as she was silent from the early days. Sera had clearly figured out the same and yet she was too far away to be part of this talk. The blonde elf could kick herself later.

 

“Yeah. Former slave. Silent, had some real anger problems, I call him Broody.”

 

“The Lyrium marked Slave?” Cassandra's voice was incredulous before it turned thoughtful. “Perhaps. He seemed honorable in your writing..Fenris, was it?”

 

“Expecting a Dalish to have a relation with someone named so close to their most hated god..” Solas started before they were startled by a sudden sound.

 

It took several moments and then a few wide eyes to realize the deep sound was _laughter. Audible laughter._ It was raspy and seemed like it caused her pain but it was undeniably real laughter coming from the woman.

 

“Right who the fuck got shady lady bits to actually make noise?” Sera asked as she managed to catch up with a sly grin. “An what all I miss?”

 

“Eh I was thinking of setting Fruit bat up with a friend and Chuckles commented that his name is too much like the old Dread Wolf and the she started laughing.”

 

“Oh! I gets that! The whole 'Dread Wolf Take you!' Right?” Sera grinned and had her hands making claw like shapes as she dropped her voice as low as it could go. It only made Din'ara laugh more, though it was back to the silent one. Still, Sera loved having an appreciative audience even if it had to be on an 'elfy' topic.

 

“Yeah that's it. Heard Lots of that. And Feenie Dis.” Varric agreed purposefully skewing the last part to see Solas twitch. The girls were a bad influence.

 

“Oh. Wolfy bits. Right.” Sera nodded, and grinned. “Even I know that one. Always worth learning the bad words even if it's all Rawr elfy Majestic fucktardis! Pwrrrt pop out more to fuel the return of empire pointy ears! Don't bang the bits that don't match ya or ya fail as elfy and no stick up yer butt fer ya!” Sera smirked at Din'ara who was grinning now as she nodded at the ranting of the blonde. “Kay. Share with the rest o the kids. Why's ol wrinkly big bad wolf make ya laugh?”

 

Din'ara lifted her normal hand and wiggled her fingers, confusing everyone until Sera nodded. Apparently consenting to the 'elfy weirdness magic shit' as it had become dubbed as long as it was to heal. Probably because otherwise it caused pain she never made fun of Din'ara doing such to talk. A moment later the Herald grinned. That mischievous smile that did not make her look sane. “Lived with the Dalish, often heard that.”

 

“What'd you saaaayyyyyy?” Sera whined and leaned closer.

 

“Asked if he was really a wolf.”

 

Sera started howling in laughter at Din'ara who just grinned.

 

“I do not understand the humor..” Solas said tersely and yet his ears were still bright red.

 

Din'ara glanced over at Solas, then at Sera and then up at Cassandra. The two males felt a bit odd as somehow it seemed through nods and shrugs the Blonde, Brunette, and mottled one came to a silent consensus. Women were scary. No matter the race.

 

“The idea is he could become a wolf. But no, just an ancient Elvhen God.” Din'ara rolled her eyes as now Cassandra's blush and Sera's snickering betrayed they got the joke. A sigh and then she looked from Varric to Solas and said it very slowly. “In other words, he had experience. Worth being 'taken' by one who knows what to do instead of with an unskilled fumbling male. Especially as Gods are said to be vain, and thus attractive. I did not see anything negative about the idea.”

 

“Hah! So this Fenris bloke, think he got skills? I heard bout that guy some Rivianni pirate I tumbled with, did this thing with her tongue an it's piercing that would make me squeal like a greased pig in the rain..said he did some magical fisting thing an ripped peoples hearts out. Imagine what those fingers could do.”

 

“You met Isabella. You know what Sera..” Varric sighed. “That explains so much..”

 

Solas was curiously silent the rest of the day.

 


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Yes I actually saved the last chapter as 'Don't do the Penis Joke' for anyone who was wondering what I name these in my head. Have a chapter that ventures a few times into a more serious story. I've never realized how hard it is to write for a pretty much silent character. This will doubtlessly finish sooner than Jackal and I had another oh my god the insanity idea come up. Anyone interested in seeing how screwed up a weird Chasind Inquisitor could be? I'm thinking of a female Chasind who has a few love interests and messes with my favorite ancient elf because it'd just..be funny. My twisted funny. Or just a Chasind adviser. Oh man..haven't done an adviser yet...

()()()()()

 

“You really can't send a delegate.” Josephine was apologizing to Din'ara over the reality and the breathy sigh that was the Antivan's answer made her smile. Din'ara was actually easy to work with, she knew when she had lost and gave in fairly gracefully. Josephine, as a result, did her best to try and keep things from being too much and helping out the Herald wherever possible.

 

“Order?” It came with a flickering of her fingers around the room where Josephine had notes tacked to the walls everywhere in her system of making certain she didn't lose track of a single potential option. It was part of why she was so skilled at things. Now, because of mutual respect Josephine had even let Dina'ra in to her private study here where she doubted she'd even let Leliana in without a fit. It was her way of trying to thank the healer for what she had to put up with.

 

“I would go meet with Fiona, since Solas all but promised you would.” Josephine drew it out for her, ink on paper with both women shoulder to shoulder over the table. “Go and meet with the mages in Redcliffe, then back to attend Madame de Fer's soiree. After that I would try to speak to the templars..”

 

There was a shift to Din'ara's face and Josie fell silent. Waiting for the woman to change her thoughts into actual words.

 

“Worst case?”

 

Josie smiled. Oh she liked how her leader thought. Caution. No wonder Roderick was actually assisting with things. “The mages don't offer to help, the templars don't. One side will to spite the others but..it's possible they'll lash out badly either way. If you don't meet with Madame de Fer she's liable to spend not inconsiderable influence to belittle you and it could make getting supplies and support much more tricky. Not impossible, but a lot harder.”

 

“Need?”

 

“No you don't need her.” Josie patted Din'ara's hand and watched as the woman smiled. It was such a tiny thing, touch, but aside from the servants did anyone actually remember that this was still just a woman? Cassandra clearly but then Cassandra had a loyal streak that ran as dark as Josephine's hair. “It will help though. A very powerful mage with connections..”

 

“Fiona?”

 

“They'll probably argue. Depending on how things go in Redcliffe, yes, you may face troubles.”

 

Din'ara's gaze went to her green palm, then right to Josephine before she smirked. “Plums? Solas could use.”

 

The adviser giggled.

 

“I'll be certain a bowl full of them gets in his room.”

()()()()()()

 

Once the decision was made, Din'ara trusted Josephine to let them know and went to the Tavern. She wanted to check on Sera and needn't have worried.

 

“My Shady Lady Bits!” Sera crowed and all but flipped off the beam and into a chair with a thud. “Drinkies!”

 

Din'ara gave a silent laugh and moved to settle in beside her blonde friend. Thoughtful and wild, that summed up Sera. A girl who learned she had to take and force her way because that was all she could do. “Imma getting you wine. Wine helps your throat right? Or is that bourbon..or..”

 

“Thank you. Wine.” And it was gentle and softly spoken in a way that made Sera beam. Because people forgot that for all her rowdyness and bluster that the blonde elf really just wanted to help people. Din'ara was strange. She couldn't speak right without resorting to magic but she tried to avoid that and Sera could seriously respect that. To her healing so she could talk regularly and without pain was a last resort, when her simple words failed. It was like an arrow to someone's face was Sera's last blow. And sure she was a bit elfy and a bit too elfy but she was also not. Sera had only been there a short while but she was good at being a rogue and the right words in the right places had painted a very different image of the herald.

 

For being such an almost impossible looking woman she was more approachable and relatable than many Sera had met in the Red Jenny. Herald and glowing hand perhaps was thrust upon Din'ara, who had one night curled together in the tent because Sera _loved_ to cuddle even if she didn't get to have sex and Din'ara had been all for that once the 'no fondling not interested' had been made clear. Sera was all good with that, it wasn't like she was out to convince all the women to go her way but cuddles? She loved cuddles. To an orphan growing up in Denerim's alienage love and touch was denied many and so that Din'ara was as starved for it as she was only helped Sera decide this was a leader she could follow. That Din'ara used her strange magic -and yes it completely freaked Sera out because people shouldn't be able to just do things like that with magic- to help those who everyone else overlooked?

 

Sera felt almost silly. It wasn't a crush. It wasn't love, of a sort. She got the distinct feeling Din'ara was the older one of the two but she almost felt like a protective big sister to the silent herald. But yes, cuddled together in the tent, foreheads pressed together as if they could share thoughts and not need the words Din'ara struggled with? Things came out. Softest of whispers to elfin ears so they needn't worry that the bald elvhen glory nut would hear had let Sera learn a lot of her companion. Her own early days had spilled from her lips with all the entreaty to understand she normally would be leaving for when someone's head was between her legs instead of just a hand in her own and those weird silver and green eyes locked to Sera's with such a look of trust and wonder...

 

Sera had never _really_ known the love of a family member. But Din'ara she looked at her, at the talkative little throwaway scrap Sera still was afraid she was. She looked at her and that 'you are amazing how do you understand me when I do not speak?' was so clear it was as if she was reading a book in large print.

 

And so in tiny single word answers and lots of soft ramblings from Sera, the blonde had pieced it together. Sera was an orphan, but Din'ara had a mother who was tranquil and with the gentle asking it had revealed not just neglect but outright abandonment. Sera did not doubt she was the only one who knew that at an early age Din'ara was wandering the Brecillian woods. That there she'd found someone who took her in and taught her things. That she'd taken lovers there when they visited and some had been human males and some not. Sera had giggled hearing that once or twice Din'ara had lured them away clad in nothing but hair and moonlight, being chased by her dalish would be lovers and not caught.

 

“You were _nekkies_.”

 

“I was.”

 

Sera had giggled. “Bet you looked good under all that silver. You're pale n stuff.”

 

Din'ara had grinned. “Tell me of your first love?” had actually come from her and so Sera had.

 

Many a night they'd fought off sleep together not in sweat and sex but tales and giggles. Sera simply _knew_ she was the closest to their herald and she took great pleasure in harassing old Elvhen Glory. Because he watched Din'ara with a frown and his eyes were hungry. It was the look she remembered old lords having when they saw the children come into their young adult years back in Denerim. Wanting what they should not and debating if they would deny it when fully the children grew into the beauty of adulthood. They usually did not deny themselves even if it would hurt the objects of their desire. So Sera learned to enjoy drinking tea and sticking to Din'ara's side because the warrior was no rogue and had no idea how _often_ the baldy was watching her. So Sera would look out for her newest best friend.

 

“You like red or white?” Sera finally asked as she brought over both. To her booze was booze and yet Din'ara gave one of those smiles. The wonder filled ones because Sera _noticed and Sera cared_ that betryaed how long Din'ara had been alone. A shrug, but those eyes- always half lidded to hide the silver but Sera knew it was there- slipped to the red wine.

 

Smiling Sera sat down and proceeded to prattle on about nothing, enjoying how in her company Din'ara felt at ease. At some point Varric came over, and the Seeker. Even Solas himself and yet by then Sera and Din'ara were several glasses in with the scarred elf laughing in silence and Sera thinking this? This was what family felt like. She could get used to this.

 

()()()()()()

Varric watched the way the two elf girls moved and talked, well Sera talked and fruit bat moved her hands and smiled and he realized they'd clicked. It reminded him of Hawke.

 

Wonderful Hawke, his best friend and that first meeting had turned into something like this a week later where they were so close, closer than Hawke had been to her siblings even that soon, that people always suspected they must have been together. It had freaked Chantry boy _**out**_! That was like seeing Sera and Din'ara, two elf maids who could share a smile and fall into giggles. One loud and the other silent. He had zero doubt that pranks would soon bloom over Haven as it had Kirkwall.

 

Varric grinned over his ale. “So we are off to Redcliffe?”

 

“Good.” Solas interjected, the way he looked at the two women, and frowned, Varric knew he likely thought they were involved. What was it with people and always suspecting there had to be sex and romance between people? You could adore someone and not want to climb them like a tree. Then again it did sell his books so perhaps Varric shouldn’t complain. “I'd like to know we have not left the mages languishing.”

 

Din'ara gave one of her silent sighs and Sera glared at Solas, protective over that for a while their leader had forgotten her glowing hand. The burden seemed to resettle across her shoulders and she just nodded before standing. Unsteady, weaving a little but Sera did not stand. Likely could not.

 

“I shall walk you back.” Solas offered and Varric had to hide his smile in his cup at the frankly distrusting expression that Din'ara gave to her usual fruit to the head victim.

 

A dip of her head, still silent, and the two left.

 

“He so wants in her smalls.” Sera hiccuped and scowled. “N he don't derse..deserve it. Seen the like. He's all ol n high n mah..mahty..”

 

“You think he's gonna break her heart?” Varric asked with a chuckle.

 

“Yehs.”

 

“Naw. See the thing is blabbers..” Varric offered and moved closer to the blonde since it wasn't like she could do so. “If she was more what you don't like? All Dalish and naïve and trusting? Yeah. But aside from silent what would you call our little herald?” And he was curious because as rogues they saw things others did not. It was as if they had a special insight built into them that no one else was capable of utilizing. Maybe the act of picking up a weapon or staff forever cut them off somehow.

 

“....sounds stupid.”

 

“Try it.”

 

“She's... _ **now**_.” Sera blurred her eyes with a press of her hand. “Solas? He's all shirveled up manstuf n don't see shite but Dinny? DinDin she's the now. There's somethn heavy bouts her an I worry cuz someun like FloryGlory there is gonna get idea an he's gonna get scary.”

 

“...You make a lot of sense for a drunken woman, Sera.”

 

“Yesh. Din aint what she should be. N yanno? Fruit n shite?”

 

“Fruit n shite.” He agreed.

()()()()()()()

 

Din'ara was heavily inebriated. She felt the woolyness of her thoughts and the delayed reactions. The heaviness of her limbs set her neck rolling back a little and a soft noiseless sigh from her lips. For just a moment, she forgot that she was Herald. That her hand glowed, that there was an elfin apostate following her.

 

She dropped her guard. Her eyes went skyward and she smiled, laughed without a sound and thought spying the trees not far.

 

She took off.

 

Din'ara's feet flew across the unfamiliar woods and she wove between the branches, pulling on the fade as she did so to enhance her eyes and ears. It was a healing craft of her most ardent work, pulling her abilities ever stronger and reaching. Calling. Crying out with her power as if hands outstretched for one who used to be there and would pull her close with a soothing croon...

 

But this was not the woods she had grown up in.

 

“Da'len!” And hands grasped her shoulders and her eyes looked up. But it was into steel gray and scowling she met not the softness of shadowed leaves and green.

 

“...Wither?” She croaked out in entreaty, looking around.

 

“You are drunk..”

 

“Lady?”

 

A sigh and someone trying to pull her away but with a huff and tug back, Din'ara resisted.

 

“Da'len you need rest..and a few healing potions.” He all but snarled trying to keep her from wriggling free, she was surprisingly slippery.

  
“Mamae.” She paused then, frowned. As if the growl to his voice had been familiar. “-Where is the Lady?-”

()()()()()()()

 

Solas stilled.

 

It was not Elvhen she spoke but it was a form of it, before the Dales, shortly after the fall. An ancient twist to the tongue but not enough to lend it to Arlathan. Not only should she not know it, there was no reason to. Ancient Elvhenan was understandable when the few words remained but this?

 

Made no sense.

 

“Where is the Lady? Where is my lady mother?” She asked again not a hint of accent. Indeed the dazed herald was swaying and looking around. “The scent is wrong, the feel is wrong. Are the wolves about? Are they okay?”

 

Solas dared not answer.

 

“Where are the wolves?”

 

“Near.” He finally answered in the same tongue with a growl as she provided yet another part of a puzzle without any fitting pieces. Her eyes blinked up at him and then she tilted her head.

 

“You're no wolf.”

 

She had no idea. “I am not?”

 

“No. You're not. The curse doesn't burn in you.”

 

Wolf curse?..Lady...

 

Solas felt the air burn from his lungs. She was speaking of the werewolves of the Brecillian forest. Had she been there? Had she been infected at the time? He'd learned of Zarathian and if there was any of the shadows of his people whom he had looked forward to killing it was that one. Binding a spirit to extend his own life, to torture any who came near. There was revenge and then there was being overtaken by utter madness and Zarathian had done the later. The spirit, before the Warden commander freed it with the Keeper's death, if he remembered, had been called Witherfang and Lady of the Forest both.

 

“Not here, Da'len.”

 

The eyes did not clear and instead she nodded. A hand to her throat, dazed. So heavily drunk she did not think anything of healing herself yet again to talk to him. He did not question it because he had gained more from this talk than in all the time they'd traveled save that one night in the Hinterlands.

 

“Will she be back soon? We have lessons..”

 

“What is she teaching you?”

 

“What is mine”

 

Even when she spoke it was riddles and peculiarities Solas grumbled to himself. “Yours?”

 

“Of my mother, of my father. No one else cares but Lady-mother.”

 

“She's a spirit.” He spoke gently, deciding if she was so drunken she did not realize she was speaking the least he could do was pry up answers. Being alone in the forest was suddenly a boon and one that had Solas smirking.

 

“Well..yes. Hahren is too.”

 

Solas felt the ground shift under him. Surely this was just her talk from the wine? But, no. She continued. As if it did not trouble her to speak at the moment.

 

“Hahren does not come out of the Fade though, and I must go deep to seek him. He does not like the wakening says it feels wrong. He likes the Fade, enjoys not being pulled out.”

 

Solas spoke softly, gently, convinced half of this must be the wine nonsense. “Oh? He doesn't wish to visit?”

 

“If I can't defend in the fade than I can't outside it so why visit?” She titled her head, frowning as her eyes did not focus. “You make riddles.”

 

“I do.” He didn't deny it and instead chuckled, needing answers but there were far too many questions. Choices, decisions, on what did he ask and risk her memory not fading come the morning?

 

“Do you understand the chances you have being herald?”

 

She scowled and looked down. “Too many eyes. Too many smart eyes. Harder to hide.” She grumbled and any further questioning was lost as she no longer could keep her stomach from loosening the amount of wine it held.

 

It was rather disturbing he thought, that the infamous Dread Wolf was now just holding back the hair of a mortal elf as she emptied her stomach. How far he had fallen, indeed.

()()()()()()

 

The next morning there was a bowl of plums on his desk. These were not the ones there previously, these were rotted.

 

It appeared the little Herald remembered and Solas shuddered. With Sera now encouraging her he would have to watch out for the fruit thrown at him far more carefully.

 


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Short but made me laugh.

()()()()()()

 

The official reason Din'ara gave for being clearly angry with Solas did no one any favors because it was just so ludicrous, and believable.

 

“Made me talk.” Din'ara had scratched out in her raspy voice before wrapping her arms around herself and giving a look to Cassandra. They'd gone to practice hitting each other with heavy weapons.

 

Varric was bowing out of the next trip to the Redcliffes, so Cassandra and Sera were going. That meant Solas was needed too and Varric attempted to apologize. But it was just too hard when he started laughing at the very thought of sticking Solas with prim and proper Cassandra, wicked little Sera, and a pissed off fruit bat.

 

If not for the fact he absolutely _had_ to help with the dwarven contacts or they wouldn't have any lyrium supply for Haven at all, and Josephine herself had asked him to step in, he wouldn't have missed seeing that for anything. Anything.

 

As it was Varric was there to hand over a nice big bag of fruit up to Din'ara when she was about to set out with the others, and even pulled out an apple to eat and show that was what he had brought. The wicked grin she sent him, a blown kiss as she tied that bag where she could easily reach into it when riding...?

 

The groan from Solas and the twin sniggers, _sniggering Cassandra was adorable!_ Made Varric's morning.

 

“Now you be good children and don't kill the cranky old man.” Varric chided them as if they were small. Sera chortled.

 

“Right! We'll be on our best naughty behavior! We're all three girls sharin a tent ya know! Can't have Dinny spectin a nice n raunchy wolf and getting a wrinkled old glory!”

 

Solas covered his face with his hand. Clearly, this was going to be a long trip.

 


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Jackal is heavy. This is just a heavy event in the game, but once again the not talking one is going way faster. Breaking it up a bit because I have to go in to work and can't type until Tues afternoon. Hope this tides you over!

()()()()()()()

 

When it was first time to camp after a hard days ride towards Redcliffe Din'ara was thrilled it was near a nice big tree. The sort she hadn't been in since the Hinterlands and soon as the fire was going, up she went.

 

“What are you doin shady lady bits?” Sera honestly sounded confused and Cassandra's bland tone depicted that she expected this to turn out amusing. At least the Seeker had come around to liking Sera once the initial contact had worn off.

 

“Most likely she is settling in. Din'ara is rather fond of sleeping up trees.”

 

“...Okay first that's so disgustingly elfy I think even Ol Glory pants here wouldn't do that..” Sera twisted her face up and then turned the most powerful puppy eyes she had upwards. “An..we have a tent! With bed rolls..ya really sayin ya want splinters up yer arse insteada _cuddles!?_ ”

 

Despite her best efforts, Cassandra's attempts to hide her coughing laughter was failing miserably. Until she realized that she'd be alone in a tent otherwise with the snuggly Sera. “It does make more sense to share.”

 

“If it is a problem of room..there is also my tent.” Solas interjected smoothly, as though he wasn't offering to share with anyone except for Sera.

 

Heaving a silent sigh Din'ara realized this was either going to end, as usual,with her capitulation or a lot of noise and complaints that would probably end with bees, annoyed grunts, and who knows what sort of lectures. It really wasn't worth it. She only had so much fruit packed. “After watch.”

 

“Gots it!” Sera was back to happy and singing off key as she went to gather fire wood. “Ohhh there's a wench I knows, in this a place I goes...a lah di deee from er bits to er hose...”

 

Three sets of eyes watched the blonde leave and then pretended they weren't curious as to how that song would end up.

 

When Din'ara woke up Sera for changing of the watch she did so by leaning over her with a grin and simply dropping the peach on her face. Loud snorting came as Sera woke, but being a rogue she was not one slow to get functional, and just glared..until she saw the fruit. Then it was all she could do to not wake Cassandra as she smothered her laughter with her hands, gave Din'ara a wink and a quick hug before scampering out for her own watch. Quite possibly with a side of pranking.

 

The majority of Din'ara's armor came off, her mace set aside with the buckler she had kept since that first fight alongside Cassandra, and then Din'ara moved into the bed roll where Sera had been. Because the three women got along they just had the mats together and shared blankets which helped stay warm. Besides, with Sera you would end up in a tangle of limbs anyways. A heavy muscular arm was suddenly tugging Din'ara in like a teddy bear and the elf snickered without a sound.

 

Sera wasn't the _only_ cuddler in that tent but neither would ever rat out Cassandra.

()()()()()()()

 

It was inevitable Din'ara finally slipped deeply enough into sleep that she awoke in the Fade as most did, and just relaxed into the meandering dream memory of a forest ruin. There was only so many nights of barely sleeping before her body insisted after all so she would enjoy it. Looking down she smiled, bare foot and with her hair doubtlessly in snarls, beset by leaves and flowers, and just a slightly too large shift on her tiny frame she recognized being a mere slip of a child. Sera would have had fits over how stereotypically elfy she seemed right then. There was the usual bird songs, the creaking of Sylvan's nearby but she was safer than perhaps even a dalish elf would have been. Around her neck sat a piece of flowering vine still alive, and off that a wolf's tooth had been carefully hung.

 

“...interesting..”

 

Solas's appearance was not unexpected and Din'ara looked up at him, hardly uneasy at her shrunken form but the minute he disturbed her dream enough from the meandering of watching how the sunlight had adjusted the shadows of leaves and whispering grass her form shifted to an older one.

 

Curiously she noted she was still garbed much the same, just older and thankfully in a longer shift. It made her laugh without a sound. Oh yes, now Sera would have been squawking.

 

“You are still silent here? Though there is no damage?” Solas's brow went up even as he moved about, looking for or perhaps at something that was beyond Din'ara's knowledge.

 

“It doesn't hurt to talk, but I don't have the adoration for it you all do.” She spoke in the scratchy tone that she felt was _hers_ not the healed one.

 

“Where is this?”

 

“Brecillian forest. It's full of ruins..” She moved down at peace here, and gestured to an old grave. “Some things sleep that shouldn't be woken. They were later.”

 

No more questions came, perhaps sensing that she wanted to just enjoy what remained of the dream even as it had warped. Instead, Solas went all over the area, trailing fingers over the ruins, examining leaves and insects. Her memory was _flawless_ of this place for all the time she had spent in it and yet there was a funny sensation that he was reading something else into it besides that it was just her favorite location, well one of them, as a child.

 

()()()()()()()()()

 

“Okay yanno glowy things and snarly demon butts are weird anywhoo but this is like they are dancin the Rivianni tango or the remigold with shoes backwards!” Sera muttered as she lined up another shot. Indeed the swiftness of some, the slowness of others that were attacking was just bizzarre. Cassandra seemed to be stuck in another location that slowed her down, as the monstrous form blurred from speed . With the line of thinking only a melee warrior could have Din'ara simply plowed into her ally and moved them both out of the way.

 

A nod from Cassandra and the women were together working to bring them down. Shields and weapons in tandem with the support of arrows and spells had become something of a routine, eerily enough. When her hand practically leapt up to close the rifts on it's own though she felt her brow twitching. The glowing palm was seriously strange, and she preferred to forget she had it.

Licking her lips Din'ara's gaze went over her companions whom had been further apart from her and Cassandra than usual.

 

“How is it ya dorks go chargin in like that n don’t gets a scratch?” Sera grumbled and yet went still as she came one step closer, and glancing down at her bleeding knuckles and hand where a beast had gotten too close, Din'ara was treated to the widest eyes and palest skin she'd yet seen on Sera.

 

Without an obvious spell the injury was knitting together.

 

“Ha hwaits...” Sera managed to garble. Din'ara lifted a brow.

 

“Healer.”

 

“Yeah but Glory britches has to do the spell n ya wiggle fingers an.. an...annnn come on this is tooo elfy! No elfy-ing Shady lady bits!” The plaintive whine was so childish as Sera still draped herself over Din'ara shedding mock tears, ignoring the gore and filth coating the mace fighter, much to her amusement.

 

“I did not realize you had an active aura effect..” Cassandra mumbled though it was appreciative. She rarely took much damage in battle, but even she had been avoiding scratches and sore bruises.

 

“Theoretically impossible.” Solas frowned. “Even the most powerful of spirit healers have to consciously cast such and then maintaining it is a significant drain on what they have available. Since you are also utilizing your energies in battle it should not be ..”

 

Din'ara's brow went up, still patting a whining Sera's back.

 

“Does everything need to be talked to death?” She rasped out, a full sentence in annoyance.

 

“For most of the living?” Solas replied with a generous dose of sarcasm. “Yes.”

 

 

 


	8. You didn't think Redcliffe would be serious did you?

AN: Yeah. I've done the things.

()()()()()()()

 

Entering Redcliffe was a sight, especially as the three women looked various shades of amused and annoyed..and a very silent apostate following them with not just the brown and red gore from the monsters. There was a suspicious purple hue to his attire, one even on his face despite evidence of trying to wipe it away.

 

Sera would look back, every so often and cackle. Cassandra was doing her best not to react. Din'ara had just started off without a word but considering at his last snarky remark she'd produced one of the plums she'd brought from _somewhere_ and pelted him with it?

 

Solas was _not amused._

()()()()()()()

 

They had time to look around, clean up, and the incident was left unmentioned. Lesson learned, when Din'ara was feeling testy it was best not to press the issue as his disapproval did not matter to her. It annoyed him, and yet he could admit he came off too harsh in the last discussion. Clearly it was theoretically impossible, but not in actuality for she did it.

 

As if showing she still held a grudge though when they were waiting to meet with the magister, Din'ara gave him a look. “You agreed, you talk.”

 

“I am not the one whom they wished to speak with.”

 

“Fine. Cassandra.”

 

Solas scowled, Cassandra would let the mages languish and prefer the company of templars no doubt and he could not trust the herald to speak up for them. Indeed, she was a broken mage and chose to fight as a warrior...

  
“No you are right, I got us into this, I shall do my best.”

 

Din'ara gave him a knowing look then and just nodded. “Solas?” She grinned then, wickedly, voice raspy. “Don't get us blown up.”

()()()()()()()()()

 

He didn't. He spun so many half promises that by the end of it Solas was smiling, they had agreed to return and hash out the details with Fiona and the magister at a later date. Sera was clutching her head, Cassandra looked entirely like she'd bitten a lemon.

 

As usual the herald wasn't reacting.

 

“My heaaaad..you did..the circles and no logic an..you didn' even promise them anything!” Sera whined as they passed beyond Redcliffe. Stopping long enough to drag the Herald to where Solas had sensed another rift and picking up a flamboyant mage along the way who was still following Din'ara, rattling off as though hoping to make her speak.

 

“I still think we should approach the Templars..” Cassandra voiced and Din'ara glanced over her shoulder, nodding. Ignoring whatever Dorian was going on about now.

 

“Next.”

 

“She speaks! Such ..no. Can't call that dulcet tones..”

 

“We call her fruit bat!” Sera provided. “Keep the wiggling weird shite away tho, kay?”

 

Din'ara gave a smile then, it seemed Sera could always make her smile. “Maggots?”

 

“Oh ew! No no no nooooo don't go puttin the thoughts in my head! You did. You evil little bat..” And Sera was off on another tangent.

 

Dorian finally glanced at the Herald and paused. “Why do you seem indifferent about the things that just happened back in Redcliffe? All I have told you?”

 

Din'ara healed her throat, ignoring his wide eyes and sighed. “Because no one listens to me anyways and even if I just watch..things happen. Seriously want to put on a wig and make your hand glow? You're human but I bet no one would notice if I vanished with you in my place. Any good at hitting things?”

 

“..You want me to pretend to be a female elf mace weilding warrior, and the herald?” Dorian asked in the dryest voice he could.

 

“...Like a break.”

 

“Sounds like a challenge! Hmmm...you know, with a little adjustment and a good illusion spell..I could probably fit in your armor. You need a nicer set before I'd agree..”

 

Cassandra looked aghast. “You're actually planning to...to...”

 

Din'ara blinked at her. “He'd cause less scandal in Val Royeaux.”

 

“Ahhhh no. Orlais? Not my favorite place to avoid being a snarky asshole.” Dorian confessed.

 

“Okay. Come with me then. You bitch, I stand around and look at everyone like won't you shut up already.”

 

“What's my role?” Sera piped up, looking amused at this utter disaster of a plan.

 

“Sticky fingers.”

 

“Oh. Oh I am good at that. I'll call in the other Jennies.”

 

“Josephine will be horrorfied!” Cassandra spluttered, trying not to laugh. Din'ara just looked back over her shoulder and grinned.

 

“Tell her bout the tray.”

 

“No one hears about the tray.”

 

“What's this about the tray?”

 

Solas rubbed his head to fight off the headache. This was the group that was to save the world. And he was following them.

 

“Solas?”

 

“Yes, Din'ara?” He asked resigned because she never used his name and that meant something was about to go wrong.

 

“Escort me?”

 

“It will be an utter disaster.”

 

She just raised an eyebrow and may the Fade have mercy as he found himself smiling back, understanding what his pelter of produce was saying with just that look. “Very well. It will at least be entertaining. You can frustrate someone else with your silence for a change.”

 

Din'ara hummed silently and looked over to whisper in Sera's ear. “Maybe I'll talk that night just to annoy him.”

  
Sera's cackling did not make anyone else there feel better.

 


	9. I don't want to go to the party

**AN:** Yeah. These girls keep giving me ideas in the middle of a work shift. Troublemakers.

()()()()()()()

 

In a bid to not be killed by Josephine, Din'ara had Sera sneak off as they were almost in sight of Haven, having doubled up with the other elf female so that Dorian could use the other horse. When Sera came back she had a grin that was highly entertained and drawled. “Only for you shady lady bits, would I go pick flowers.”

 

Din'ara just beamed at her, taking the items in hand and then ignoring everyone's puzzled expressions, and doubtless the rumors from watching Sera give Din'ara a massive bouquet while keeping the other half, did the two girls head straight for the lady Montilyet.

 

The other three followed, Cassandra not even bothering to hide her amusement, Dorian chortling the whole way, and Solas just following with his usual 'I cannot believe I am even in the same hemisphere as these people' demeanor.

 

As it was Josie was in the midst of tea when Sera threw the door open, and did the talking. Predictably.

 

“So yeah you're awesome and we did sorta maybe awesome things an don't kill us or make us do the frilly dress stuff an we good yea? Oh n have some flowers. Pretty.” And here Sera wiggled her brows. “Just like you!”

 

Din'ara was laughing silently and held out the flowers to Josie. The clearly almost all weeds flowers, but to her credit the beautiful Antivan just fell to pieces in giggles, happily taking them. She even fussed about them, passed them a few little candied fruit pieces that the following trio were happy to help themselves too, and went to put the weeds in water.

 

“Now why do I need to be buttered up?” Josie was no idiot, but the thought counted. A great deal, especially from the two who had held them. Sera usually couldn't be bothered and Din'ara..well. If not for the whole giant hole in the sky she doubted anyone would have been getting her to stick around.

 

Little things like this showed at least she did care.

 

“Uh...We let Solas talk to the mages n he went in circles an made my head hurt.” Sera started off, ticking on her fingers.

 

“Maggots.”

 

“Oh come on I did NOT need that mental image again. Ugh. Yes. We got a necromancer. Thingy. Dead stuff for dolls player..”

 

Din'ara nodded, and then gave her wicked grin to Josie. She'd healed her throat subtly before they came in. “Theoretically if I am going to cause a scene at the soiree..how awful does it need to be to be a benefit?”

 

To her immense credit, the lady montilyet just sat down with a heavy sigh. Suddenly realizing the group that had been crowded into her room, and that only Varric was missing...no there he was hiding in the corner. When did he sneak in? Likely this entire fiasco waiting to happen would be descending on Madame de Fer.

 

“How much fruit is left of the two bags you took?”

 

“Not much.” Solas grumbled under his breath and rubbed at his shoulder which still had a strange purple stain to the garment, even as Cassandra spoke out loud. “Perhaps a few pieces. She was..temperamental.”

 

“You leave the fruit Din'ara, and I will instruct you on how to be insulting in a way that will come across as a fantastic impression.”

 

“...no.”

 

“It's fruit!” Josie said. “You cannot go throwing fruit at the guests of a powerful Knight-Enchantress!”

 

“Wine?”

 

“She'll have champagne at the least and no.”

 

“Drunk?”

 

“...please don't.”

 

“Am I allowed to strip naked and climb the trees?” Din'ara drawled and there was a sudden choked hush.

 

“Ha! Like when you used to prank the travelers in the forest!?” Sera beamed over. “I wanna see that! Nekkies shady lady bits! Fer reals!”

 

“You...wait..really?” Cassandra's eyes were huge. “Why?”

 

“Distracted the trespassers, someone else would steal the weapons. Eventually they'd wander out, or into the forest enough they got themselves killed.” Din'ara blinked a few times. “If you eat berries you shouldn't, you probably shouldn't be in the forest in the first place. Most everything wants to eat you even if it's just the grass once you die.”

 

“Hm. So by what, prancing around naked in the moonlight like all the bad elven myths in a flower crown?” Varric asked in an amused drawl. When Din'ara just shrugged and nodded he actually started to choke in laughter. “NO!”

 

“More leaves in my hair than flowers...” Din'ara started amused.

 

“...Okay so scandalous attire is possible, but you cannot remove even a piece and it will startle them to the point you may as well be naked.” Josie said with a heavy sigh. It was clear if she was going to make Din'ara do this, she may as well let her do it in a way that made it fun. Honestly. “Any color request?”

 

“Green?”

 

“Not with your skin.” Dorian sniffed and Din'ara flipped him off casually without looking, her eyes just on Josie.

 

“Solas is escorting me.”

 

All of a sudden there was a calculating look to Josephine's expression that Solas did not like.

 

“I see. Scandalous attire will be spared everyone but yourself, and Sera..of course.”

 

“Wait..I never said I'm goin in a dress” Sera waved her arms. “I'm doin sticky fingers!”

 

“No skirt.” Din'ara agreed.

 

“Oh give me something to work with here!” Josie cried out.

 

In the hallway no one reacted. Really, Josephine was one of the few who actually listened to Din'ara's opinions, unfortunately for her it meant she was pushed a great deal further for the one area that the herald had control.

 

“If cassandra's in a dress, I'll be in one.” Din'ara finally stated. There was a hush that fell in the room.

 

“....If there is but one frill or bit of lace Josephine Montilyet..” Came the even and controlled voice the of Seeker.

 

“Done!”

 

A thud came as Varric sat down. “Ohhh this is gonna be good.”

 

 


	10. I bite

 

AN: Nope no warnings for you even though I do picture Solas as a bit kinky. Have fun.

()()()()()()()

 

The return to Val Royeaux was complete with staying at a hotel, masks and attire for each of the party members which was essentially just green and with a leaf motif half masks that were very light weight for everyone and a green belt that went over their usual attire.

 

Except for Cassandra who had the green mask, a green chain link looking belt, and a dress of the deepest grays that was such a severe cut on anyone else it would have seemed austere. As it was with Cassandra's lean lines it made her look like she was still _entirely_ capable of swinging a sword and there were fashionable boots to go with it, the dress only going to just below her knees in front. The boots looked armored but not -they were just with fabric over them- and the same with gloves to set off the loose bat wing style sleeves and showing a generous amount of collarbone, not cleavage.

 

She seemed rather smug at the rendering of Varric speechless.

 

“Where's shady lady bits?” Asked Sera who was entirely in black, also courtesy of Josephine, but all of it skin tight and with tiny little green bee's that Din'ara had embroidered along the side on the carriage ride over because the lady Montilyet was not risking losing the herald.

 

“Dorian is helping to get her ready.”

 

“Pfft. Probably a good thing. I don't know about tyin all those laces.” Sera agreed and Solas blinked as he looked over. “Laces?”

 

“Laces.” Sera nodded again. “I really thought that Josie was gonna play up the outfit like Cassandra's an make em all matchy but it isn't bad. It's just..odd. Perfect for fruit bat.”

 

“I think it's brilliant.” Dorian exclaimed as he sauntered out in his usual style of garment only several times flashier. Literal flashes of light being magically wasted to enhance the garment. “Uncouth savage and fantasy for all those sordid little nobles. I wonder who her tailor is..”

 

Din'ara didn't make an entrance, or stomp, she just walked out with her usual bored expression before sighing soundlessly and at Sera's cackle, obediently turned around to show off..nothing and everything.

 

“Laces!” Sera hooted again because skin tight exact flesh tone fabric hugged Din'ara's skin but over it was embroidered leaves and vines looking haphazardly tied on so that unless you were within touching distance it seemed as if she was essentially, a good turn away from losing the foliage covering her. “Oh come off it, you're amused!” Sera accused and Din'ara's feral grin showed. Since her mask had the addition of the bottom looking like so many teeth, it made her grin venture into nightmarish territory. Josie had been healed just as swiftly as Din'ara had bruised her ribs in the ensuing hug. Despite all the stress she caused the Antivan understood her humor.

 

“Yes.”

 

“...I feel like I should be scandalized but I know you aren't actually just in leaves tied on and naked beneath.” Cassandra admitted, Varric though was snickering.

 

“You're gonna turn heads all right. Some may spin so fast they snap off.”

 

Din'ara's response was a drawled “Can only hope.”

()()()()()()()

 

They invaded, was the best way to put it. Dorian was escorting Cassandra and his snide remarks had her actually holding back laughter as he was poking fun at the Orleisan frippery. Varric was walking next to Sera and positively glowering at Dorian's back as he waxed on about the many ways Cassandra could probably kill someone with her belt.

 

“Yer face is gonna sticks that way.” Sera said with a grin, winking down at Varric. “He likes em with the dangly bits. Look he stares at the guys.”

 

After that Varric was a little less prickly and back to his suave self. He may even have somehow blackmailed three people into sending coin to the inquisition.

 

Perhaps the most entertaining though was how entirely tight lipped Solas was, he had clearly not approved of the 'Dalish savage' that the group was playing up with Din'ara. Din'ara though if anything seemed to be having fun. If the endlessly feral grin and silent laughing was any indication. The nobles were entirely taken in, tittering about as she stalked with a warrior's movements and bared teeth more than smiled.

 

“You're supposed to be _charming._ You know, as an escort Solas.” Dorian chided and then with a sigh had Din'ara's fingers wrapped around his own arm before the elven apostate knew what was happening. “Truly. Try not to bore the lovely Cassandra while we go be snarky and destroy a few reputations, sully ideas..”

 

“And how is that going to help matters?” Solas's tone was not pleased.

 

Of course this is when the Marquis attempted to cause a scene. Well, there was assuredly one but not as he planned. The moment he got too close Din'ara freed her hand from Dorian and stepped into the Marquis's personal space, trailed her fingers over his jaw, and the man dropped.

 

So did all conversation.

 

“Well my dear, while I completely applaud your making an entrance..” came the voice from the stairway.

 

“Seems you're the one planning an entrance.” Din'ara's voice was fully healed when she replied, and Sera was snickering softly having seen Solas start. Really, she'd heard the herald threatening to talk since he expected otherwise back in Redcliffe. Why didn't anyone expect her to do things she said she would? Sera thought it was hilarious that people were given warnings and no one listened! That was entirely her sort of humor.

 

“Perhaps. It is my party.” Vivienne crooned as she walked over. “Still, a corpse on my doorstep?”

 

“He is alive.” Din'ara said and then tilted her head back, eyes wide behind the mask not in shock but an almost dangerous eagerness. A warrior about ready to strike. “Paralyzed. Helpless until I reverse it..but alive.”

 

Cassandra's form stiffened even as Dorian mumbled under his breath. “How..not a flicker of mana..”

 

“Bold claim..” Vivienne reached out as if to adjust Din'ara's hair, having been left loose as it was striking enough in it's appearance but the elfess wasn't done setting rumors. She pretended to go as if to bite at Vivienne's fingers. “So wild!” But there was a smirk beneath the full lips as the enchantress nodded. “Danger and intrigue..”

 

“I bite.” Din'ara smirked, her arms out suddenly with a controlled rippling of her muscles that drew attention to the false leaves, in a way that spoke time _practicing_ with Josephine. “Both those who think they've lured me into traps, and allies who are too close for my benefit.” A warning. A blatant one and her voice was shifting to a lower rougher tone, how swiftly her throat returned to it's 'natural' state but it only made the exotic wild nature of her statements all the more powerful. “Those who think me harmless learn otherwise. If too late for them.”

 

“Indeed. How precious.” Vivienne's lips were in a controlled smile of her own. “Well do return the Marquis to his..sniveling..state..shall you?” A challenge.

 

Not even a move of muscle from the herald and the man was scrambling up. “What foul magic was that!?”

 

Madame de Fer whirled though and with clever insults and demeanor that would shadow Kings once more stole the show. Din'ara watched in annoyance at all the pointless talking, the subtlety of the insults lost to her. Solas was at her side, looking straight at her for the first time since she'd come out in attire he could hardly approve of, demeaning to the parody of elves as it were. “What did you do?”

 

“Paralyzed him.” She shrugged.

 

“You can only heal.” Solas reminded her, and those eyes locked on his own, the feral grin directed at him.

 

“Healers know how and where to strike.”

 

And damn it if that warning didn't make his ears pink. 

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

AN: Did you really think we were done with the party? Also more poking at how in games I always strip the new members and give them good stuff and sell the rest..

()()()()()

 

Sera managed to get about several trips done with the help of the other jennies while the inquisition party kept at the farce of having fun. Whole rooms would be looted, especially documents, and for Leliana? Shoes. She had given Sera her size just in case. There were compartments in the carriages they took to get to Val Royeaux and would be taking back to set everything in and since Sera was making off with plenty of pointless jewelry to fleece that night for coin she was happy.

 

Yes Madame de Fer was likely an ally and would be joining them but it didn't mean anything. It was almost a tradition to take all the things a new person to the group had and shuffle them around for others, and sell off the rest. They were just being proactive with someone who was not going to give them a choice.

()()()()()()

 

Cassandra, secretly, was enjoying being in a dress not that she would ever tell.

 

The best part was when emboldened by the actions of the Marquis, despite how utterly trounced he was, some idiot tried to come on to her complete with hands in places Cassandra's permission had not allowed. She broke his fingers with her grip and smirked at him. “No.”

 

Another noble woman applauded and brought her a glass of champagne. “Beautifully done. Tell me..is it often you shatter a man's fingers?” The gaggle of women around Cassandra seemed entranced by her actions and Varric found it quite amusing.

 

“Huh. Seeker's got a fan club...”

()()()()()()()

 

Dorian slipped away with some 'Duke' of some sort and winked cheekily at Din'ara who was still silently interacting with everyone there, while Solas seemed to be back to glowering in disapproval. “Have fun fruit bat, don't kill, maim, or humiliate someone without my being here to appreciate it. I'm going to explore some foreign lands and likely get us owed several trinkets.”

 

“I'm not healing any diseases you catch.” Din'ara whispered back hoarsely, making Dorian chortle as he patted her cheek.

 

“You are...talkative..” Solas grumbled.

 

Din'ara just looked at him, tilting her head as a raised brow wouldn't show through the mask. Silent.

 

“Isn't this childishness overdone?” Solas sniped .

 

For an answer, Din'ara finished her glass of champagne and went to take the hand of a young fop who asked her to dance.

 

It wasn't a party until someone threw a fit after all, and she'd decided to annoy Solas. They didn't let her throw things this time.

 

If it got really desperate..Din'ara saw a drink tray that looked like it weighed a good amount being used to carry the bottle of champagne. Hm. That gold color reminded her of Josie's favorite puffy shirt..

()()()()()

 

Din'ara was spinning with the fop on the floor, letting him teach her the absurdly dull dance one step at a time when someone else decided it was time to cause a commotion. Considering that Dorian was smirking, with what looked like someone else's sash in his hands, and a disheveled noble with mask askew was being yelled at by a woman. Wife perhaps? Of course Dorian would go after that sort, forbidden fruit and all.

 

Sera grinned from the balcony above and managed to catch Din'ara's eye with a hand wave. A wicked grin passed from one she-elf to the other before a decision was made when Sera held up a glass flask of some sort of liquid that would cause a scene and mouthed 'Spikey Drinkey!'. They'd apologize to Josephine later. Time to _really_ have fun. Their way.

 

Cassandra was not sure _how_ it had turned from dull affair to a duel of fisticuffs, spells being flung about, and no less than fifteen fainted nobles -men and women- on the artfully prepared couches. The fact there were such furnishings suggested an outbreak of this matter was not so uncommon in the Game as many would pretend.

 

What she did know was Vivienne's spells were impressive as the mage seemed more like she was sauntering about, no doubt taking the rare opportunity to handle some disagreements in spectacular fashion.

 

Solas had a barrier up and looked so exceptionally annoyed Cassandra felt like a naughty girl of five all over again learning to sneak cookies and blame it on her elder siblings. There was just something about seeing the elf flustered that did that and it was no wonder Din'ara was always butting heads with him. Varric was taking the chance to loot, no surprise there, and Sera was helping him out relieving the fainted or downed nobles of their goods. Cassandra may not _approve_ but it was best to pretend not to see.

 

So distracted was everyone, that it was only a flare of light on metal that caught Cassandra's eyes as she turned back towards where Din'ara had been.

 

Under the grinning mask was a wicked baring of teeth in pleasure as Cassandra's eyes beheld their herald casually snatching a drink tray from a server and swinging it at the head of the fop who had been getting a little handsy. With a wave of the tray and a half spin, Din'ara sent it flying into the fray before all but racing over towards the Seeker with a silent laugh.

 

It was all Cassandra could take as she smothered her laughter under her fingers. “You just..”

 

“No one _ever_ expects the tray.”

()()()()()()()()

 

When they were back on the road returning towards Haven the next morning, with Vivienne's fiasco of a party somehow having elevated the mage to a new level in the Game as she had been seen fighting alongside the Inquisition. Rumors according to Varric was she had the lot of them at her call, and Din'ara could care less.

 

She stayed contentedly silent the trip back, taking only a bundle with her, alone, into Josephine's office.

 

Smothered laughter was all that was heard after, although the servants did wonder why the Lady Montilyet now had a dented gold Orleisian tray hanging from her wall over the door that they were asked to polish regularly.

 


	12. Run away!

Din'ara was an expert at avoiding situations she didn't wish to be a part of. Well until some twist of fate landed her with a glowing appendage, but aside from that she was good. Case in point? The moment a man was at the gate talking about the chargers, she'd all but dragged him to Josephine, rasped out “Talk.” And scampered away with a titter following her from the Antivan.

 

Josephine knew she was going to toss a party together as fast as she could because she did _not_ want to go back to Redcliffe when she knew there would be talking involved and obediently set about getting all the details. At least she was deferring to an expert.

 

Dorian had been the first she grabbed after Sera, because Sera was invaluable to Din'ara and was never going to _not_ be with her. Someone who made her laugh and not talk only made it more amazing. Dorian had glanced down at the two elves for a bit, confused before finally looking at the blonde.

 

“What is going on? I don't speak the non speaking language. Although I am very skilled at pout, glower and preen..”

 

“Ha! Shady Lady Bits here is planning something, not happened yet. I don't think she wants to go handle the mages because yanno that means ol Glory is gonna talk and talk and talk...”

 

“Hmmm..so shall I presume that my beautiful company, while a fantastic decision mind you, is required because you need a mage and I am the obvious selection out of the three of us you have at your little finger's beckoning?”

 

Din'ara nodded, shrugged with a grin but let Sera talk.

 

“Point. Don' need Glory bits fer healin when we got our fruit bat!”

 

“Well then, count on me for your undead summoning, life force draining, and of course..eye candy..on this trip.” Dorian bowed and then wiggled his brows. “Though I think I best get a better cloak. You do have the strangest ideas of what comfort is. Being up in a tree..”

 

“Naw, then she'd miss snuggles.” Sera said casually. “N yanno, people like snuggles. Not like the nobles who live on air kisses.”

 

Dorian looked wistful for just a moment before agreeing he would see to getting a tent. It made Din'ara tilt her head, tug on Sera's arm and then gesture at the -sashaying- hips of the retreating mage and back at Sera.

 

“Wha..oh..oh wait..um..” Sera frowned, thinking. “Not a threesome cuz I don't go for men but..ohhhhh.” Sera nodded with a grin. “Thought you'd have noticed. Yeah. He don't swing fer both. That duke he took off for tango in the drapes at the party was definitely not gonna involve the wife.”

 

Din'ara smirked at Sera then and gestured between the two of them. “Snuggles?”

 

“Don't think Cass is coming?”

 

Din'ara shrugged. “Sending word. Templars.”

 

“Huh. Wish her luck figuring that out with curly. Yeah. Sure, we goin just us three then?”

 

“Healer. Mage. Sneaky.” Din'ara ticked off on her fingers and lifted a brow. “Warrior.”

 

“Point. With you doing healing too we don't need a fourth..I'll go see if Dorian can attempt being not so loud bout everything, noble tosser that he is, an we can go packed light. Smart!”

 

Din'ara winked and then went to hide in the stables.

()()()()()()

 

As it turned out, Krem was all set to go right then and Dorian was a little too excited at the idea of being involved in the 'Secret Club Kickass' as Sera dubbed it to turn down leaving immediately. That it was Krem and Sera riding out on one horse, with Sera cackling madly, and Dorian and Din'ara on the other with silent and boisterous laughing as well..thundering down the path before anyone could even _ask_ what was going on?

 

 

Well, Dorian did know how to make an exit.


	13. Bull and a decent apology from the Egg

AN: Din'ara is to me the sort of playthrough where you'd mostly be like Yeah.No. Someone else can do the sidequests unless they were related to her friends.

()()()()()()()()

 

The trip was wet, raining, overcast, miserable, filled with mud and the smell of four people barely fitting in a single tent. There had been another but when it became obvious fires were out of the question, body heat became the solution. Aside from a few really terrible joking moments the fact they all slept in most their gear anyways with Din'ara being the only one besides Krem who had actual armor to remove to sleep, they stretched the other tent to extend the flap so their items were kept dry and piled in like so many puppies. Dorian, Sera, Din'ara, and then Krem. Keeping watch was more having one person just huddled in a cloak peeking out the extended flap and by the third night they just swapped to trusting a glyph Dorian made on the outskirt and all of them doing their best to sleep in a snoring twitching pile.

 

Because of the constant rain and winds Din'ara didn't have to talk much and Krem swiftly began to pick up on her pantomime speech letting Sera entertain the lot. When you got the red jenny going she had a number of fantastic tales to entertain everyone, and some of the craziness Krem and the rest of Bull's Chargers had gotten up to was enough to have even Dorian toning down his snide behavior. The two Vint's would never likely enjoy being around each other, but they managed.

 

The first time they handled bandits with Krem wading in with his maul -what'd you do muscles, just strap a rock on the first stick ya saw?' “essentially Sera, yes.” 'Ha! Awesomes!'- and Din'ara doing so with her mace, the constant stream of healing kept them unscathed while Sera and Dorian made a game out of creatively disposing of enemies with spells or arrows in unusual places set the pace. They all but plowed through to the location to meet the Iron Bull and were so used to it by the time they saw Bull's Chargers being attacked that it was just one more encounter.

 

The advantage was this time, there was ale afterwards.

 

With no reason to pack up early, because none of the two keeping Din'ara company were the sort to go on pointless tasks, they enjoyed a number of drinks as Bull shared his deal. Din'ara nodded, rasping out only one rule.

 

“Keep me out of all your reports.”

 

“Uh that's kind of..” He paused then, the sharp eye rolling over her. “Got it. Keep _you_ out of it. Not the Herald. I think I can do that. Been through a lot of hell have you kid?” And it was said with sympathy but no pity. Din'ara just shrugged.

 

“Glowing hand makes me a target. That's just..Stupid.” She didn't want more attention then would absolutely be unavoidable. Considering being allowed into the heart of such an organization would give him more than enough fodder to send back, Bull was feeling agreeable. Especially after watching how the woman had fought beside Krem. They both used that brute strength that was from precision, spoke of training.

 

“Think we can work on that. So...got any red heads in that camp of yours?” Bull leered and Din'ara smirked glad the alcohol dulled the pain of speaking so she could avoid wasting her mana.

 

“Leliana. Bet five silver can't get her naked.”

“Ohhhh you're on.”

 

“I'm siding with fruit bat!” Sera piped up from where she was sitting nursing a drink, having sidled right up to Skinner from the start.

 

“Hm. I do think qunari have a reputation, especially their spies. I'll avoid this wager as he's likely to cheat.” Dorian muttered. Din'ara licked her lips and poked Dorian, lifting a brow. The mage had gotten adept enough at speaking without talking and sighed. “Of course you _are_ correct, Din'ara. Cheating is allowed in everything as long as you aren't caught.”

 

“Uh..is anyone going to address the issue of the...yanno..amulet weird ness? They may be useful?” Sera piped up as if she couldn't believe she was saying that. The blonde looked down at her ale as if it had betrayed her.

 

Din'ara gave her a look, then pointedly back at the corpses and snorted.

 

“Good point shady lady bits, only need so much canon fodder.”

 

Bull's lips quirked. “Oh yes, this is gonna be entertaining.”

()()()()()()()

 

As they did not get side tracked, the group agreed to head back with the chargers. Watch was far more pleasant with more people, and no one argued over giving up one of the horses to help carry the ale. Priorities.

 

()()()()()()()()

 

“Stalker.” Din'ara mumbled as she awakened to the Fade to see Solas there. It was worth it to watch his lips curve in a frown.

 

“Hardly, I had been told I could-”

 

“Yes. I know.” She cut him off because he was likely going to start to lecture her and that was annoying. “Didn't realize it would be almost every time is all.”

 

“I see. If I am unwelcome I can depart.”

 

Din'ara looked him over slowly, her arms crossed and leaned back as the fade could be solid without actually shaping the environment. It was all intent here. “Only how you talk _down_ to me. I don't like to speak, it does not make me a simpleton.”

 

Solas visibly was taken aback and nodded. “Perhaps I could offer to show you something as an apology? Is there anywhere I may have seen in my wanderings that would interest you?”

 

Din'ara tilted her head, appreciating the offer. Many ideas flowed but she had only a few real interests. “How far back have you gone?”

 

 “Years beyond counting. When even the Elves were but a young race and it was dragons and wild beasts that roamed, creatures we have no names for now dominating the lands.”

 

Din'ara remembered the strange spirit she had witnessed that one time, and nodded. “Please.”

 

She didn't wish to hear over and over about the loss of the elves, the stories she had grown tired of back among the dalish. She'd seen first hand from the Lady of the Forest what poison holding so tight to the past could be. But exploring what no one knew of? When Thedas was young and wild? That she was curious of. That night Solas did not speak once of the Elvhenan and history, of crystal spires and glorious feats lost to time's ravages. Instead he walked her along old mountains and saw dragons take flight and strange beasts that defied description roaming the land and skies. In these times language had not been needed, and Din'ara was delighted that Solas kept still his tongue and just led her with a hand at her back or elbow.

 

It seemed he _could_ apologize if he wanted to in a way that was sincere. 

 


	14. Chapter 14

AN: To make my life easier this is now getting an update every Sunday. More crazy! Again it is always weird how much this goes by swiftly because the inquisitor just doesn't want to talk.

()()()()()()()()

 

No matter Din'ara's personal views on the matter they really could not delay returning to handle things with Fiona and the mages. Especially not when Dorian was insisting that the longer they wait the more unstable magic in that area would become. So despite the constant harassment from Vivienne and Dorian, Din'ara kept hiding. Eventually she just found herself being scooped up by Cassandra and walked into the war room.

 

It took the combination of all the advisers insisting, and finally when even Josephine's pleas failed they brought in Roderick.

 

“Din'ara, you need to see this business with the mages through so we can hopefully get this breach sealed and move on.” He said calmly and patted her shoulder. Though it was entirely hard not to laugh at the disgusted face she made. “And before you ask, no, we really cannot just send someone else. You were the one invited.”

 

“Fine.”

 

“Thank the maker..now..here's what we're going to do.” Leliana started. She knew by now not to give Din'ara any options. They all did. Nothing like trying to drag an organizations figurehead around with them setting their figurative heels in and refusing. The ambush details she paid attention to because unlike a lot of the talking, this was important. So was whom she'd bring with her to start.

 

“Solas. He started this mess.” Din'ara growled out in her raspy voice. Josephine smiled and handed over an apple. It startled a silent laugh from the until now cranky herald and the Antivan adviser took out a knife to start cutting wedges.

 

“I would suggest also taking Cassandra, Sera...and perhaps Dorian?” Leliana started. Din'ara just shrugged. She really really didn't care. Frankly in some way the entire lot of them and Leliana's little shadowy forces would be there so however they wanted to spin it was just fine by her.

 

“Also, dear, I know this is going to be tricky for you, but you cannot launch fruit at the magister.” Josephine added.

 

She pouted at Josie who just sighed.

 

“No sweetie, not even if he deserves it.”

 

Din'ara was now positively _sulking._

()()()()()()()()

They went back to Redcliffe.

 

No one was surprised at the journey going quickly. Or that Solas was told by Leliana that he was to do the talking. At this point everyone was so used to their silent leader it wasn't even a footnote. Sera instead was telling a tale about when she had been pranking a noble who didn't think to look up and how she'd covered him in paste from a bucket. Dorian started adding ideas and before long Cassandra was just making that noise of hers regularly.

 

Perhaps recognizing that Din'ara didn't mind others talking, Solas had dropped back with her and was explaining more of what she had witnessed that night with him in the Fade. Where he had been to dream of such events. She liked listening to his voice, it's just she didn't agree with his obsession of the past. Then again he didn't seem to approve of a good deal about her, including that she'd had to be practically forced into this meeting.

 

“It would hardly do us good to seek the templars.” He said softly, and Din'ara just nodded with a grimace. That they could agree on.

 

When the time came to meet the Magister it went smoothly, between Dorian and Solas there was so much talk happening that was obviously insults but no one else could seem to unravel them. Sera and Din'ara just made faces at each other behind the men's backs.

 

The coup went off as planned and the only change was when Alexius started to cast something. Now, Din'ara was used to fighting mages, she had magic. And right now for some reason everyone was just standing there and _watching the admittedly crazy man casting a spell!_

 

Even Cassandra! Seriously?!

 

Din'ara dug in her feet before launching herself in a charge, slamming her shield into the magister and then for good measure knocking him out with a twist of her healing magic and huffed. Standing back up she noticed the startled expressions and dropped jaws all around her.

 

“What?” Had they expected her to just take the brunt of whatever spell he let off or something? And they called her crazy. Meeting the King of Fereldan and his wife, whose timing was so insanely suspicious she was squinting in Leliana's direction because there was absolutely no way that was coincidence....

 

“We had offered you shelter and you repaid us..” Alistair was starting. What was it with kings and mages and okay just people and the speeches? The level of stupid in the room finally annoying her more than talking, Din'ara spoke up. Never got old seeing people jump at the raspy tone of her voice.

 

“Magister tricked them. Tevinter. Taking advantage of your people.”

 

“Ah well..that..” a flustered king started, thrown by the change in topic from what he had no doubt been couched through by his noble wife judging from Anora's annoyed expression.

 

“The herald is right, there was an abuse of time magics..” Fiona started and Din'ara tuned them out, after waving Sera over discreetly.

 

“Yeah shady ladybits?”

 

“Loot em.”

 

“Have I told you lately you're the best boss ever?” Sera leered but very discreetly stole everything off the magister she could, especially that sneaky amulet, and then proceeded to pick the pockets of every guard Alistair brought that she could. Din'ara was used to the extra weight and as items were slipped into her pack she didn't let on at all. At least this farce would have a decent pay off. Really, why couldn't they have just come in and knocked the magister on the head to begin with? People made things far too complicated.

 

()()()()()()()()()

 

The entire way back was spent with Dorian throwing a fit on how she handled the event like a barbarian and what if the spell had actually sent them in time, forward or back, wouldn't that have been something to see? I mean yes perhaps they would just have been obliterated or rendered drooling husks but there was a chance... After a while Din'ara got so fed up with it she hit him with fruit for the first time. Specifically picking a nice ripe slightly squished strawberry so it would leave pink marks on his white attire. The outraged squeal from the Tevinter over that as it was going to stain his clothing broke the eardrums of a few people in the vicinity. They were no longer riding near each other. Cassandra trying not to laugh at the annoyed expression on Din'ara's face.

 

“I will not complain that you just lost one of those stupidly pricy little fruits you are so fond of. For what it is worth, I think you showed more cleverness in stopping that spell. No telling what it would do.”

 

“Yeah crazy mage dude making with the sparkly fingers at you when you know he isn't happy? Not so good. Wonder whut all that rantin was bout tho, yanno? Elder one this, mistake that...too many days squinting at books mebbe.” Sera asked before leaning over and rummaging through the fruit bag to chomp on a few pieces herself. That everyone just knew Din'ara had a bag solely for fruit on her mount was saying a lot about not only the party, but the stable hands as well. That certain types were saved for each of the party members was an ongoing joke, and it showed how much she liked you at the time if she aimed to wake you up or get your attention with one they'd actually enjoy snacking on. For Sera it was peaches, and lemons because of the hilarious faces you'd make when biting the tart items. Once Cassandra had begrudgingly explained the slang of what a lemon could refer to in writing, so that one needen't admit to enjoying trashy smut in public, she made a point of biting into the fruit and wiggling her brows at the Seeker while pursing her lips.

 

“It was no spell I recognized.” Solas interjected as he ignored the antics of the elfin rogue. “Though our resident Tevinter seems convinced it had to do with time magic, such is theoretically impossible to have effectively as we have witnessed at Redcliffe. It created great instabilities and would more likely obliterate you. While I am willing to admit there are applications of magic I would not have thought possible such as your constant healing aura in battle, time magic is not logistically one of them.Though crude your method was..possibly the better choice of action.”

 

“Dude elfy would it kill you to say “Agreed” or some shite that doesn't take multiple breaths? For fucks sake..” Sera whined.

 

It made Din'ara chuckle though, silent as ever.

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Arriving back the first thing Din'ara did was go get enough water in a jug to wash up. That was when she realized all her clothing she had gotten used to was gone, replaced by...something..odd.

 

Vivienne's making her opinion known on her armor again, clearly.

 

And the reaction if she just walked out naked would likely not be good. Unfortunately. Because it would have given quite the laugh.

 

Great. How was she even supposed to put on all these layers? Looking at her older armor Din'ara shrugged, pulled on just her tunic and pants and went to find Dorian. Maybe he'd forgive her enough. The ground was cold, a new layer of snow irritating her bare feet, but it didn't take long for her shivering still damp form to locate the tevinter mage where he was wandering.

 

“What in the..why are you dripping wet and out here? You'll catch a cold!” Dorian fussed at her and Din'ara sighed.

 

“Vivienne attacked my wardrobe. Help figure it out?”

 

“...you came out here shivering and under dressed just for that? You are entirely hopeless.” But the Tevinter was smiling as he shooed her along, using several grooming spells to dry her hair as they went and fussing over her. The use of fruit on his garments apparently forgiven. “You know I didn't think you would actually allow someone to influence what you wore.”

 

“Been the same stuff since conclave. Don't care. Not sure I can fight in it though.”

 

“Well, as...ostentatious as she is, the woman does have fantastic taste in attire. Do not repeat that. Let's see..”

 

It proved entertaining how she was poked and prodded and fussed over with Dorian grumbling and sending several messages and demanding servants to get supplies while he looked over the gear. “Not right, the heels are a bad idea but boots? Yes good boots. Flat though and reinforced on the toes and up top but roomy..you crazy melee sort..”

 

The servants, her former companions, got in on it when someone had let out that Dorian was trying to give their herald a makeover and at that point the number of laughing elven girls in that room made the Tevinter drawl. “I am going to have _legends_ over making an entire cabin full of women laugh and giggle for hours here..wonderful.”

 

Din'ara did as usual, as the fellow servants knew she would, and just gave in. The difference Dorian noticed in how she yielded to them versus when it was serious decisions is she was doing this because it made them happy.

 

A simple woman. He found that he approved.

 

When they were finally done Din'ara had her hair cut a few inches where there had been damage from a wayward spell, her nails handled, and the whole group had actually taken advantage of all the products Josephine had provided for her that Din'ara simply wouldn't use because they smelled too strongly. A poke from Din'ara and short words had someone go fetch Josephine, Sera, and Cassandra at some point and someone else had come back with enough fruit and cheese to feed them all. It was _very_ crowded in the cabin.

 

The best part had to be when they finally started forcing Din'ara into the gear and back out, because she had to be able to dress herself in the stupidly complex fashion. Once she finally understood the order of the reinforced leather garments it did allow more movement than her preferred dalish armor had and the sort of blow she could take was much improved. It still covered her, thankfully, but there were peeks at under layers in bright silvers and greens to reflect her eyes. If that bothered her, that Vivienne had gotten a good look at her features when she out of habit hid them, Din'ara pushed it away. The rest of the armor was different shades of browns and grays, made to look like a leaf motif and play up the 'Dalish Savage' no doubt. She rather liked it. Even if she was making no end of faces at the boots. She fell. A lot.

 

Finally though consensus was she'd need flat ones and that was when Vivienne barged in smugly.

 

“You look wonderful darling! Much more the part of our herald..but I suppose the heels were a bit too ambitious. I had smaller ones, just a hint of a heel, made for you as well but they just arent as striking.” She had brought them of course. Suitably attired to the satisfaction of everyone and entirely bemused as to why they had thought this so important for all Din'ara had enjoyed the close comraderie, they trickled out to seek their own beds. They'd handle the breach in the morning. Vivienne one of the last to leave as she turned and patted Din'ara on the cheek.

 

“Next time, wildling, do invite me for such a gathering. I have missed mingling so, it reminds me of the circle as a girl.”

 

“Promise.” Din'ara rasped out and the answering brilliance of Vivienne's smile was heartwarming. Perhaps the dark beauty was manipulative and cunning and ruthless but the world had made her so. Din'ara was an anomaly but as her only magic was not in a fashion Vivienne could assist she often just relegated her to warrior. That she was attired as Vivienne had insisted, subtly, seemed to only increase the amount of leeway the enchantress was going to give. “Make them dress up too.” Din'ara rasped out amused, if she had to clean up..

 

“Oh trust me dear girl, I intend to. We'll get that Sera in something that matches yet. I may even convince that qunari oaf to wear a full shirt. Now that unwashed hobo apostate..he's going to be a challenge.”

 

“Books.”

 

“Bribery?! Hm. There may be hope for you yet dearest.”

 


	15. Closing the Breach

AN: Oh my god the outline I made just makes me laugh. Here is literally the plan for this chapter. Breach. I look at my notes later like..wha?

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It occurred to Din'ara when she woke up that she really had absolutely no idea at all how they were going to use the mages to help her close the breach. All she knew was the irritating glowing bit on her hand kept trying to do something to her, and mostly like a parasite, which required a lot of work to constantly fix. Fortunately since her body was always healing itself regardless it didn't do more than increase her appetite to keep up with the outpouring of energy. Well and seem to shorten her temper a bit but when you had something practically leeching off your existence it would do that, and frankly it _itched_. And in a few hours it may be gone.

 

The panic sets in swiftly and Din'ara finds herself shivering in the cold that always seems to be in Haven. Out in the new attire she's been fitted in to watch the sun rise, a sick feeling in her stomach. Her magic is a warped and twisted thing, what strange effects may it have once more with the events they are about to cause? She doesn't even know what precisely they are going to do. Why did they need mages _or_ Templars? And no one has come back from investigating the later which sets her a bit more at ease because Templar's are just plain scary. Hypocrites the lot of them, condemning blood magic but using it to track down circle mages. Sneering at those who come by magic naturally but then taking lyrium in a way to force that ability on themselves.

 

Any group of fanatics needs to be avoided and the Templar's are just one such. She's seen a lot of it among the mages as well, and if she's being entirely truthful, Din'ara has witnessed it everywhere. Even in herself, for what was she to her now deceased Lady Mother, the spirit of the forest and mentor to werewolves if not loyal? Her heart aches for a moment for home is ever gone to her, so deep in meloncholy she does not notice her company at first.

 

“Such a serious expression for so early.” It's not Sera is her first thought, as she then looks up at Solas. They have come to a sort of ...understanding, perhaps, that as much as she dislikes speaking she is not against others doing so. She just hates to be looked down on because of her choices. With a shrug, Din'ara gestures via her glowing palm to the breach looming above. Solas nods in understanding and sighs.

 

“It is not so complicated as your thoughts have doubtlessly circled on. What the mages shall do is push their focus towards you, it will increase the draw the mark has and thus greatly enhance it's capabilities. Without it needing to pull on only what you provide it shall hopefully lessen the pain as well as give it the boost it needs to overwhelm the breach and snap it shut.”

 

Din'ara speaks then, softly but no less hoarse. “Will it be gone?”

 

“The Breach or the Mark?”

 

“Both.”

 

“The Breach hopefully, as for the Anchor..” Solas trails off almost visibly thinking through many paths and possibilities. Din'ara is content to let him gather his thoughts, appreciating that someone does. For all she loves Sera -adores her really- the woman has no habit of thinking before she blurts things out. Whilst endearing in the rogue it tends to aggravate Din'ara in others.

 

“Truthfully I doubt it.” Solas finally says and Din'ara sighs silently. “Does it bother you?”

 

“Yes.” Because it hurts and frankly if not for her constant innate healing who knows what agony she would feel most the time? Solas does not seem surprised by her answer and well aware they are alone on the edges of Haven, perhaps the only time she will feel able to bring up the topic, she does. “You are a Fade mage..”

 

“Rift mage.” He corrects but there's no bite to it. It's a petty amusement of hers mixing up Fade Walker and Fade Expert and Rift Mage to the point he's almost responding automatically now.

 

“...can you take it off?” It is a sign of how serious she is that Din'ara is taking the time to form complete sentences. Solas clearly had not expected that conversation though judging from the wary look he is giving her.

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

“Guessing.”

 

“Ah. No, no regrettably I cannot. Were I stronger mayhaps.” It is a curious turn of phrase that sets off Din'ara's awareness. Not were I a stronger mage but just..stronger. It implies much but she willfully denies her thoughts to meander. Instead she just nods, looking down annoyed. Sera had offered a few nights prior that if the anchor vanished she could travel with the rogue, become a Red Jenny. Not truly something she has much interest in doing but Din'ara has become accustomed to companionship once more and loathe to lose it so soon. Whilst she would be too recognized for a good while yet in the larger cities there are many more and Sera is fine company. A sister really.

 

It's all a moot point for now.

 

The day is going too fast and before long she's standing in front of a group under the Breach, Solas is yelling something but she's not paying attention. Cassandra and Sera are by her side, the former squeezing her shoulder once before stepping back. Sera though? Sera grins and holds up an apple. “When you're done you can toss this at someone. Kay? So no dying or passing out or anything!”

 

“Okay.”

 

The actual sensation of using the mark this time is painful. Caught between the breach which pulls on her glowing palm like a current she can't escape, dragging her under while the river slams into her back. The energy from the mages feels _wrong_ because that's not how magic is to her and it has her vision swimming almost immediately. Din'ara's focus narrows down to holding up her hand and taking in breaths, just being the conduit.

 

Yet again, she's not really needed. Just her hand, so much as her whole place in this mess has been to be a convenient figure head shuffled from agenda to agenda. A sudden snap that flings her hand back as the Breach is cut off, and an awful wrenching sensation that drops her to her knees thankfully the mages having no longer kept pouring their mana into her.

 

The anchor burns and claws along her veins, so much more substantial after having fed upon the mana. It makes Din'ara look at her glowing palm shrewdly, ignoring for the time all the cheers. It feels...stronger.

 

Too much so for her to ignore, as in tune with her body as she is from always healing the sudden way that the Anchor feels almost alive and fattened up worries her. Yes, closing the Breach took a great deal of power but at least half of it is curling in her palm now for all it doesn't look any bigger.

 

What is this thing?

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	16. Chapter 16

AN: Sorry I just got home and it's 15 till midnight on Sunday. Does it count for the update if I start writing it that day? Just been really busy at work and tomorrow is my double shift. Whew. So I promise a big one next time that is going to go all the way up to the end of the Haven mess..

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“Why ya keep lookin at the glowy palm?” Sera asked before flopping next to Din'ara. While everyone else was basking in the revelry, their lauded Herald and woman figurehead of the hour was not joining in. Instead she looked at Sera, then pointedly at the if anything, brighter, mark on her hand.

 

“You look disgusted. I mean it's weird magic but..what? Why ya makin that face at me?” Sera grinned and then handed over a bottle she'd been downing when Din'ara didn't answer. She wouldn't press for an answer if it was clear the warrior and healer was either unwilling or uncertain of what to say. Instead they sat beside each other watching as many made merry, including for once without prejudice the very servants who had first helped hide Din'ara among their own. What felt like ages ago. At some point the two women were pulled into the party, and Din'ara yielded, moving along with the clumsy dance steps and laughing silently. For now people forgot that her hand was still alight, an ominous sign to her way of thinking despite the sealed rift taking up the sky. The looming green tinge that had made the world so alien for those who had never wandered the Fade as a mage did had already begun to slip away from memory.

 

At some point they even pulled Roderick in, the old man sighing and laughing but bowing with elegance that betrayed his time in courts over the hand of one of the sisters and slowly moving along with the steps. Din'ara had smiled and gone over, mock curtsying to him as he offered a hand.

 

“I hope you are not going to vanish in the night now that it is over?” He made no mention of the robe to Din'ara, showing a little of how much he was actually fond of the woman. With a shake of her head as an answer though, the elf easily moved to follow his lead in the simplistic dance pattern. Not so terribly unlike those observed by Dalish round the areas.

 

“Good. I admit, you've been a fine example to these people. Your way of not meddling just because you can is one that I feel more of the well meaning should learn.” Roderick chuckled at her raised brow and smirk, clearly saying she was not fooled by his blustering, not in the slightest. He had been the kindest to the servants before all this mess had happened.

 

“Not sure where or when I'll leave. Hand is still aglow.” She rasped out and the elderly man nodded. Lips pursed slightly in concern.

 

“Yes. Maker knows such things are rarely happenstance.Truthfully I would have been startled if fate had not kept you in it's grasp in some way, child. You have served the memory of Justina very well, and I can only see that the Maker would have further use of you, unwilling though you have been most of the time it only causes those around you to make more decisions on their own. Something as much as they grumble over, that I am positive has only aided the layman in all of this.”

 

“No one ever listened.” Din'ara grumbled a bit but nodded. Her own opinions rarely had mattered in the grand scheme of things but she'd never really felt..personally..involved. If not for the fact she was so forcibly marked there was no chance of her being here for all of this. Certainly, never would have met Sera or Cassandra and the rest and that would have been a loss Din'ara had never known. Roderick too was in that list, a man who was seeming to remember that he had once joined the Chantry for love of it's teachings and wishing them to be simplified and explained for the lowest of simpletons to have a chance to feel it's comforts. He had been returning to his humble roots, unofficially becoming the one all the servants went to for advice and their troubles. It had the old man thriving.

 

“Whatever else the Maker has planned for you, you'll do just fine Din'ara. So long as the Lady Montilyet keeps produced stocked, that is.”

 

 

 

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

AN: This is dedicated to Judy on FF.net who always leaves me a review even if it's short. Makes my day, and so Judy thank you. You're why it's 20 till midnight and I'm typing instead of sleeping even though I just got off work and go back in six hours.

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Din'ara didn't remember precisely how the warning of the attack on Haven occurred. Often they did not tell her anything, unless she was needed to do something. Perhaps because the Breach was now sealed she was no longer the first person they thought of running to. What the healer did know is that there were corrupted Templar's swarming the place and while Cullen and Cassandra rushed to the front lines and the gates, she had torn back to help corral their helpless. She had been a servant, she knew that they would be the last ones anyone thought of. Roderick grabbed her arm as she went by and searched her gaze. Satisfied by whatever he saw there the old chancellor and leader nodded.

 

“Bring them to the Chantry. There's an escape route, the one I told you about when the Servants were helping to clean?” He saw the moment her green and silver eyes widened. A way out. Din'ara's gaze became something determined then, and Roderick could not help but smile. This was the fearless soul who had wielded naught but produce and a tray to defend the Divine against her attackers, and Roderick knew this was not the hero of Andraste's sort, for all they called her the Herald. No, Din'ara was the champion of the lowest common people. She spoke then and despite the destruction Roderick did not hesitate to lean close, to listen as she rasped out.

 

“Do not wait. Start evacuating them now. Please. If we wait..” They may not be able to take the needed supplies in this sort of weather and terrain. Roderick nodded and patted her shoulder.

 

“Bring them to the Chantry and we will begin. There may be forces waiting for us. Go. With all the blessings of those who may hear me.” Roderick stepped away then, smiling at the touched expression to Din'ara's face as he did not limit it only to the Maker and Andraste.

 

Several times Din'ara intervened with Templar's twisted into horrendous shapes, her mace and shield doing just fine against them, and grateful for the new attire Vivienne had made for her as it surely was enchanted, absorbing the blows so well. It almost seemed to support her healing aura she put out as she helped gather the helpless and move them along. She couldn't say _when_ Cole showed up, just that he was babbling at her non stop and answering her own thoughts aloud, which honestly suited Din'ara just fine. He'd answered for her that he was Cole and had come to help, and then proceeded to do just that as they pulled and guided the servants and common folk who had come to hide at Haven. She found he was talented as a rogue as well, and they balanced each other out just fine as they all but obliterated those between them and their goals. He then would hurry the rescued along to the Chantry while she defended them.

 

At some point, finally figuring out what she was doing, Sera and Varric joined in while the others were holding the gates and loud noises declared they had utilized the stupid trebuchets Cullen had insisted on with Bull. Looked like she owed both men a round of drinks.

 

Din'ara was shivering when they finally all met up again in the chantry, but more from exhausting her stamina. It was hard work fighting and weapons were not precisely light. Leaning against the wall and just breathing, mace at her feet and hands dangling uselessly she wasn't surprised to hear footsteps. When her eyes opened, it was to Cullen's thoughtful expression.

 

“You bought time, evacuating from the start was smart even if they may get noticed. It's a chance. But, you did see the dragon..right?”

 

Din'ara shook her head. It figured. “Focused.”

 

“Right. Of course.” Cullen ran his hand through his hair irritated though not at her. “At least out there they have a chance to get unnoticed..with their attention on us here. But whatever time we bought with the trebuchets, and we did get some while you helped fight them off and got our civilians safe..the dragon stole it all.”

 

Din'ara just looked at him, thoughtful and then out over the few remaining in the chantry. Blackwall had been one of the first she sent through, along with Sera and some of Bull's chargers. Of course Leliana and Josephine, and Roderick. They'd all figured out the idea swiftly that she needed competent people there, and her snarl of “Tell the servants and they'll do what you show' had been well received.

 

“Time.” Din'ara repeated softly before she glanced down at her hand. Well. She wasn't really..needed..was she? Not with the breach closed. This was just a pretty reminder now. There may be other rifts but in time, insufferable as he was, Din'ara did not doubt Solas would find a way to handle them. He was quite clever even if he annoyed her.

 

Taking in a breath she just nodded and downed a stamina draught before picking up her mace. Though there were many eyes on her she didn't hesitate.

 

“Get them far. Watch over all of them.”

 

“What..where are you going?” Cassandra asked coming up. Din'ara turned and smiled, glad she'd sent Sera on earlier. Saying good bye wouldn't have helped.

 

“Dragon.”

 

“You can't be serious!” That came from Solas who was gaping at her, Dorian no better. Indeed it seemed all the remaining souls there were looking at her as if she was crazy.

 

“My Lady Mother said once 'I have lived well. I loved, I lost, I did more than I hoped.'” Din'ara shrugged and then smirked. The Lady of the Forest would have approved of her actions, she knew that. And in the end, well. “We all have to go. Someday.”

 

Solas grasped at her arm, but his eyes flickered down to her hand before her and so his concern rang false to Din'ara, or rather, secondary for her person compared to what she bore. Once more, as she so often did, she pushed the questions away. “There are still rifts..”

 

“Clever man, you'll figure it out.” Din'ara shrugged and then slipped free of his grasp as he looked startled at her compliment. With long easy strides Din'ara went to the door, she was scared of course, she wasn't stupid. But any warrior would prefer the chance to fight back instead of cowering and waiting.

 

“I'm coming.” Cassandra stepped beside her and Sera was there..why was Sera there? Her open mouth must have made it clear because the blonde snorted.

 

“Creepy kid talking my thoughts came and said I needed to hurry back and he'd watch my part. He was right of course. You really think I'd let ya do something like this alone?” Sera couldn't hide the tremble in her hands but it didn't reach her voice.

 

If any others followed or considered it, she did not wait to see. Instead Din'ara smirked and charged off towards where the dragon was. All things could die.

 

Of course, Cullen had forgotten since Din'ara had been in the other battle areas and not the front lines there was the little issue of the problem named Corypheus she had no idea she was rushing towards.

 


	18. Chapter 18

AN: Honestly I'm amazed this is still going considering it was meant more as a joke to begin with.

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At some point Din'ara had gotten seperated from her group, and been lifted up by Corypheus as if he was just weeding a garden. As she generally did when people talked far too much she completely ignored his monologue. Instead, the mostly mute healer glared at the constantly talking should be dead giant man and the next time he swung her body as he postured, she channeled healing magics to her bones and swung her legs up, hard, to strike at his pelvis. He may be a dead man but if he was moving he clearly had blood flow or something that mimicked it and could feel pain. Of course the whole being suddenly dropped by being thrown as the most unholy shriek came from the crazed meglomaniac was unplanned for. So was being actually slammed into a trebuchet that broke her fall but as the whirring sound of it activating went off, so too did the rumbling of the coming avalanche.

 

“Shit.” Din'ara voiced out and blinked before she scrambled up and started running. Purely by bad luck she did not get far enough before the snow overtook her and the impact as it shoved her forward into a hole, only to bury her under the weight, was hardly helpful. Sudden pain as she registered a cracked set of ribs, several cuts, probably a broken hip and spinal injuries made the unlucky elf mentally sigh. Because, of course.

 

Due to her nature though she was able to start focusing on the worst of the injuries, just enough that it was safe to scratch her way through to better air flow and wet, shivering, cold, and alone was none of it a good sign.

 

Fortunately most of her abilities worked innately, the same reason it kept 'fixing' her throat to return to it's damaged state, so with a slight regenerative factor ever so slowly helping her along, Din'ara was able to focus on getting out of the place she found herself. There was only one issue. She had absolutely no sense of direction. At least with the ever present light on her palm she wasn't lacking for illumination.

 

In the end her greatest problem was not the injuries, the straggling enemies, the fact that the mark on her hand was behaving even _stranger_ than before. It was the cold. Wandering out in the cold as she finally did, with no sense of direction or clue if she was even remotely going the right way, when her body fell into the cold sleep was waiting to steal over her. Truly not knowing if she had been going the way of the evacuation or perhaps in a direction entirely off the right way, Din'ara could no longer feel her limbs and all she felt was the urge to sleep. Her eyes closed and she was lost to the Fade.

 

So draining was the entire fiasco, Din'ara was not even aware of being found and questioned in the Fade, when she awoke again her mind was too fuzzy and there was a familiar sight awaiting her as Roderick was pale but beside her.

 

“You're awake..no, don't sit up. Wait. I have water.” Slowly the aged chancellor helped her sit up and as though she was no more than a child, aided her in sipping the water. Knowing she would be disoriented and curious but not wish to speak, he answered for her. “That fade mage said he figured out where you were from finding you in your sleep, that you were slipping away from us all together. A small contingent went out to find you. Almost all servants of course..no surprise there. I was recovering still from a glancing blow from a Templar, that one you all but turned into two day old gruel for trying to strike at me before I told you to send people to the chantry. I still insisted on sitting with you, it wasn't like I was incapable of just watching you sleep, and then we realized you still had an active healing aura. No one could figure out how to make you stop so we've been mixing lyrium into the water we dabbed on your lips. On the plus side you've almost healed everyone who took a turn while you were unconscious.”

 

Din'ara finally raised her hand and lightly squeezed his arm. It was nice that some people paid attention to how she preferred to communicate. Ugh. But now she'd have to thank Solas.

 

A sudden thought made her grimace and lift a brow but she did not feel like speaking up. Not when she felt utterly drained and having been constantly working on her healing aura explained that. It was almost worse than a hangover. After a minute though Roderick made a guess.

  
“You're wishing you had some of your favorite ammunition? I'm afraid no one thought to bring it.”

 

“Vivienne.”

 

“Oh? I'll get her. You just rest.”

 

It wasn't long until the regal mage was there, sitting beside her and cooing as she took one of Din'ara's hands in her own. “Yes my dear girl?”

 

“Thanks. Boots are good.”

 

“Well yes they are well made but why are you thanking me for them?”

 

“Kicked Corypheus in what's left of his manhood. Heh. Kicked his ass. Literally.”

 

Vivienne looked as if she'd been swatted by one of Sera's pranks before the regal woman covered her face in both her hands and _laughed._

 

 

 

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

AN: Rebound sickness. Ugh. Cold is very bad and I had to work through it. I still have it but I've mostly slept and taken medicine for two days. Ironically the coughing has pretty much made swallowing etc painful and I can't really talk. So I felt like writing for Din'ara.

()()()()()()()()()

 

Ever so patient once her laughter was spent Vivienne helped Din'ara sit up and sip from a cup that was filled with broth. Long moments of silence occurred then with neither speaking and Din'ara savoring the quiet in company of the formidable woman she dared to consider as a potential ally. Eventually however, Vivienne spoke up again. “I had best go inform your army of servants that you are up, they've been surprisingly vocal in their demands to attend to you.”

 

Din'ara just nodded, slowly sipping on the hot liquid which helped with the pain in her throat. One of her ears throbbed painfully still and was just below the level of her body healing it. There generally had to be some reason for the self healing factor to kick in and obviously slight discomfort wasn't one of the problems. She was mostly dealing with a swollen ear and sore left side from where she'd been sleeping on it for the duration of her rest. Annoying, but nothing too problematic. When Vivienne left indeed a trickle of servants -her friends and companions here from the very start of the mess that was the breach- all took turns at her side.

 

Thanks to them her skin was wiped down where it wasn't covered in armor, her hair gently untangled and braided to be out of the way but not cause discomfort as she slept again. Her cup was refilled, many times, with one of the servants massaging her free hand, not the one with the anchor, to help ease the tension in it.

 

“We got a lot more supplies out than if we hadn't been prepared but we didn't take anything heavy. No real stew cauldron or anything just a few of the buckets which have been working just fine. Some of the fancier folks balked at drinking out of cups for dinner or not having anything but the knives they carry on them, or sharing with us servants but they're getting over it.” Servants of course, didn't trust to leave things about and so all of them carried a sort of fork and spoon meld with a small cup on their person, usually made out of wood and self carved. There would be a clumsy handle and a hole through the eating tool so it could hang off ones belt and be hidden under a sash.

 

“I think the fact it was eat from the metal bucket we made the stew in or find your own in the snow that did it.” One of the other servants piped up with an amused smile. “Not that there's much around here mind, precious little meat and not any sort of vegetables. We grabbed lots of rations when we ran but it's all the dried and cured stuff and being rationed carefully. Only good part about all this snow is it means lots of water and the mages don't always need wood to burn for a nice toasty fire. If it's weird an all we kinda try to not pay attention.”

 

Din'ara nodded her agreement at that, truly it was lucky the servants all had the warning they did and were ready to act. She didn't think the soldiers out fighting had thought to grab bowls and spoons so that the servants were sharing their own tools was very kind of them.

 

“Loss?” Din'ara croaked, feeling exhausted but determined to at least see to a few things before sleep claimed her once more.

 

“All of Haven is buried under snow we heard. But most of us made it, a lot of us. It's a good thing, you did well.”

 

Warm hands gripped Din'ara's shoulders and her hands and Sera was there..of course she was, had probably been there since they came in but Din'ara was just _off_ from her ordeal. Sera scooted in behind her and in the grip of her servant friends and her heart sister Din'ara shook with silent sobs as the terror and relief from the events finally settled in. No one said a word even as fingers tightened and soft muttered words helped hide the sounds she made as she sobbed gasping in hoarse breaths.

 

She'd faced off against corrupted templars and an undead magister with a pet dragon, she'd clawed her way through the snow and survived.

 

It was still a lot to take in and handle and she had no shame in showing that it was all too much to Sera and her servant friends who still saw her as Din'ara and not the Herald.

()()()()()()()()

 

Later when she stepped out, leaning still on Sera from exhaustion more than anything, many people came up to Din'ara and checked on her. Many more thanked her. She wanted to vanish.

 

'Hide away so they cannot see me, too much attention, too much for things that people should do and that they don't is sickening.” Came the soft voice behind her. No one else seemed to notice and so Din'ara just relaxed her shoulders. “Hello Cole the one who reads my thoughts, yes, I do, and you don't mind that I say them because then you don't have to and the talking is so pointless to you. I understand. It helps that I talk for you?” There was silence before he hummed in response and a hand was at her other arm.

 

“I'm glad.”

 

“The creepy kid again eh?” Sera said and looked over at him with a scowl. “Whatever. You helped find Din-Din so just stay outa my head a'right?”

 

“I can do that. You don't need anyone in yours and Din'ara thinks your thoughts probably confuse anyone anyways because they are so rapid and sharp, hide the damage they can do behind a cloud of nonsense..oh..like arrows. I see. That does suit her.”

 

Sera blinked. “You just..complimented me?”

 

“Yes.” Cole agreed simply and the two both looked down at Din'ara who was regarding cole with something akin to relief.

 

He could talk for her.

 

Oh, that, that was nice. Sera could understand her but Cole could actually talk for her.

 

“I'm gonna have to get used to the weird hat aint I?” Sera whined and Cole giggled a bit as Din'ara smirked.

 

“Sera is like a cactucs fruit, all prickly and dangerous but soft and soothing on the inside. Oh those sound nice. I think I'd like those. Yes, and she is your favorite because she's the family you never had. I don't think she'd mind either if you called her sister.”

 

“You think of me as yer sister?”

 

“She does. Soft warmth and quiet nights and wine to soothe the throat. Laughter and silly pranks, solid presence in the face of danger at her back or her side. A reason to fight, a better one to return.” Cole narrated as they walked over towards the rest of the group. Sera's mouth snapped shut and her eyes regarded them both thoughtfully.

 

“Okay. You're a really weird kid but you can stay. As long as you help Din.”

 

“I want to help.”

 

Din'ara laughed silently and for just a moment her heart was light and playful at witnessing Sera interact with the spirit child who clearly confused her.

 

That was when the singing started.

 

Din'ara panicked as she realized the humans were kneeling to her! At first she'd not minded the song, it wasn't something she could do herself, the singing and the tune wasn't exactly a bad one but she panicked at seeing the almost devotional behavior. Only Cole, at her back now with his arms tightly holding her in place so she couldn't run away and yet no one seemed to be aware of him, kept her in place.

 

“They need this. They need hope, you're a symbol of it to them. They don't see me I make them forget.”

 

Din'ara's breath came more ragged and Cole softly crooned to her. “You don't need to be afraid, they see you for what you are and what you have done this time. Not the mark on your hand, not that you came at behest of their Divine. They see you for the elfin woman who helps the servants, ran to face a dragon to buy them time. They honor you for what you did and it will help them. You don't need to do anything but exist.”

 

Din'ara swallowed hard and Cole squeezed her lightly as the song began to end. It was then as Solas approached her with a soft gait, apparently unaware of the spirit in human form still gripping her shoulders.

 

“May we talk?”

 

Din'ara gestured with her hand, but followed him when he turned. He could talk and she would listen.

 

“I am pleased you are well. Finding you was no simple task, but considering...that is not what I wished to speak on however. The orb that Corypheus carried..it is Elvhen.” Solas tilted his head to her, his fingers alighting one of the torches with Veil fire and Din'ara pursed her lips in thought. Elvhen?

 

“This is a concern of course, for throguh you one of the people is being elevated as they have not in untold years, you have a unique position to benefit all of the elven people as a whole. Yet, if news of this ..stolen artifact..was spread?”

 

“They'd blame us.” Din'ara rasped out in agreement. She could see that much and the surprise in Solas's face that she put it together and deigned to speak on it made her sigh. Her eyes were pulled down to her hand once more, the aching sensation of the anchor, more awake and aware and _hungry_ than before. It pulled on her energies like a ferocious parasite. “Advice?”

 

“They need a safe place for now. A location to regroup.” Solas changed the topic and din'ara raised a brow but did not argue. If he wished to speak of the people now depending on them then she would listen. It wasn't as if she was just going to slip off into the snow at this time, she wasn't heartless. “I had seen a place in the Fade..”

 

Solas talked for some time as was his want describing the place he called Skyhold to the North. He agreed to search out anywhere they could find along the way for supplies and safe places to stop and rest as moving such a large group was a long slow process that would cause them a great deal of trouble.

 

Din'ara sighed heavily and was all too eager to curl up between Sera and Cassandra in the lean to tent they had to share that night, pooling their body heat. In a pile of limbs and heartbeats, each was assured the other still lived. If Sera accidentally woke Din'ara by startling out of a dream and fluttering her fingers to worriedly trace Din'ara's cheeks to ensure she was there and whole, the older and silent elf pretended sleep to not give it away.

 

In truth, she was struggling to sleep with the memories of being so cold and finally giving in to slumber nipping at her thoughts. And there was a word being whispered her keen elven ears picked up from the advisers that made Din'ara feel like a hart in the woods hunted by a predator. Tempted to flee.

 

Inquisitor.

 


	20. Journey to Skyhold

AN: Still no voice so writing this.

()()()()()()()()()

 

It took only a day and a half of Din'ara being awake for her to get fed up with the humans and how they were doing things. Years of experience in the Forest and then many different times with other Dalish clans had taught her something of moving large groups of people. Finally she tugged on Sera's sleeve, the blonde rogue having taken to shadowing Din'ara at all times. A bit of PTSD left over from watching Din'ara be separated by a wall of fire and being dangled from Corypheus's hand before they had to flee no doubt.

 

“Yea Dinny?”

 

“Bull. Blackwall.” She named the two she knew Sera got along well with and with a playful salute Sera went to find where along the line of slow walking masses they were. Cole formed beside her and chirped like a bird before he went to let Cullen and Josephine know they were needed. Those two would naturally grab Cassandra and Leliana, leaving just one important person she needed for this. Long easy strides let Din'ara track down Roderick who did not seem surprised to see her. The lines of people had halted for the noon break but there was still more snow around them than anything. It didn't mean people weren't risking a numb backside for a break if they could find a rock or two.

 

Din'ara kept her mouth shut as she gathered them with her and after holding out her hand Leliana figured out she wanted to look at the map the spymistress kept on her. Putting her own cloak down first to keep the item dry, Din'ara stretched it out on the rock in front of them and let the group wait in silence as she pondered, lips pursed and in a very deep frown. Finally though she looked up at them.

 

“About where now?”

 

“Here.” Leliana didn't hesitate and pointed mostly between haven and another small town that was scratched in, by her own hand no less. Din'ara had borrowed a map the previous night to look over and thrust it at solas when they were alone, her brow raised and to his credit the Fade Walker had understood right away and pointed out where they were to be headed. Din'ara's eyes noticed this map was in far better shape and had a lot more potential places to stop along the way.

 

“Which towns have Chantries?” She asked Roderick and the chancellor paused in thought. It was a slow and heavy thing, with the group around them clearly trying to track the thoughts of their herald but as Roderick glanced down the map slowly comprehension lit in his eyes.

 

“Here. Here...” He started to point out the ones along the way. When Din'ara tapped further north than he had started to go he simply changed which ones he was pointing out. “Orzammar has a chantry now and several small villages have cropped up along the way..leading to this one, it is a large one on our way. Not a properly built one mind you, more a serious of barn like structures but serviceable.”

 

“Josephine which would you be willing to stay at?”

 

“I beg your pardon?”

 

Din'ara crossed her arms, feet apart. This was the unwilling Herald but more this was a warrior and a healer and she was not going to tolerate arguing on what was best for those under her care. “This group is too large.” Came the raspy explanation, the straining vocal cords evident as much as the softer tone of voice, as if impossible to go above a quiet conversational tone. “Not enough supplies. No idea what we are heading into. Very few are used to long treks or going without rations. Each chantry along the way will take in those who need shelter. Temporary shelter. Until we reach our location. Then we can bring them all to us.”

 

“Yes, temporarily..if I write you enough letters and use my signet, and Mother Giselle as well..that will also allow them to send for coin to reimburse what supplies they give for us.” Roderick nodded. “Many of us are not used to the hardships of travel like this and you intend to go further into the mountains where altitude sickness is a concern. Spreading us out also allows us to start gathering resources and things that will be needed to make the trek later. A much better idea than trying to navigate for weeks at least on foot.”

 

“I suppose..” Josephine started but was cut off by Leliana.

 

“It makes sense. If we are only soldiers and scouts we can push harder. The issue becomes what to do with our newly freed mages. Many are from circles and not used to even the walking we've already done.”

 

“No magic.” Din'ara shrugged making a few stare at her. “Food, warmth. No magic in the mean time. Leave staffs with chantry mother at location and they can have when they go.”

 

“And if they leave ahead of time..we cannot be responsible for them.” Cassandra frowned. “It is a risk, I do not like it but if there were a better solution we have not thought of it. Indeed we haven't enough supplies for even half a week at this pace and that's not counting the lack of tents and medicine. We would be far worse off if our Herald didn't constantly heal everyone.”

 

“I'd feel better if some of our soldiers stayed with the mages, but I don't want to put a strain on the Chantry resources.” Cullen added in.

 

Josephine shook her head. “I will stay at the first location. I can start sending out to my contacts and having supplies brought and gathered right away. If we choose in advance who will be at every spot I do not even need to hesitate if it arrives before you do.”

 

“The only way this is going to work, is if then we push and push hard.” Bull interjected. “You can't have any of the men not in tip top shape if we are to find where we are going before we run out of the supplies even grabbing new ones at each spot. We can't rely on living off the land.”

 

“It seems a good plan.” Blackwall nodded. “Get the civilians, the elderly and too young where they'll be fed and safe. They'll be bitter if you don't remember to send for them though. This is something people believe in now.” Blackwall smiled at Din'ara, knowing the burden weighed heavily on her “But it's something they want to be a part of. Reminds me how the first time I saw the Warden's..changed me.”

 

Din'ara felt her shoulder's slump in relief that they all agreed with her. “How soon to the first?”

 

“If we send the scouts ahead with letters they'll be there by morning and if we can push everyone we can get there in two nights.” Leliana crossed her arms. “I think first we leave our utter civilians and the elders. Keep going on with the mages until the second. Josephine stays with the mages as she can smooth most any situation over, Roderick with the first.”

 

“Blackwall with Josephine.” Din'ara agreed. “I trust him and warden's have pull. Backup that isn't magical for her.”

 

The bearish man ducked his head in acknowledgment but the faintest hint of a blush showed over his beard and ears.

 

“I think we should leave our horsemaster at the first spot as well. With any luck he can try and find mounts.” Cullen suggested and Roderick hummed.

 

“That would do. It gives me time to send off letters for assistance as well and I do not think my body is up for the weeks of travel. It's been nearly three decades since my last great pilgrimage that I did not have the luxury of going by cart!”

()()()()()()()

 

Din'ara kept going back and forth along the line as they traveled. Her waterskin had a small amount of lyrium in it but she did not drink from that one, preferring to use the regular water. It was more a precaution as she was keeping her healing aura active. Since so much of their walking was through snow and mud it was safer to do so and prevent anyone from becoming sick in the first place. Indeed, it was one of the only reasons they were making as good of time as they were and once the group she had gathered had gone to share the reasoning for splitting up between the populace it had been easily accepted. The servants themselves had decided who would stay with which groups and at each pausing took to swarming Din'ara. Small touches, hugs, grasping of hands and linking arms. Bringing water or a bit of the less than palatable rations to share. In their own ways they ensured the Herald knew they cared and not a one of them asked if she would really send for them again. After all this time, they knew her.

 

Din'ara was a woman of her actions and she would not leave them behind.

 

Parting from Roderick though was bittersweet. She'd come to care for and rely on the man as a hahren of sorts and as the chantry passed out porridge -blessedly hot and fresh- and supplies to those who would keep going onward, Roderick took a moment to pull Din'ara aside.

 

“Go with the blessings of all who can look over you, and the strength that has carried you thus far.” Roderick started and brought up his hands. When Din'ara did not flinch away he gently cupped her cheeks, ignoring that she was still fully attired in her armor, hair plaited down her back but looking every bit the legend she was becoming. Instead he smiled and held her face in his hand as if she was a child, perhaps a neice of his own. “Since that day I thought the Divine did better than she knew, sending you to us. You not only warned us, heralding the dangers to come, you stayed when you did not wish to. You aided those who needed you and never have lost yourself. That, dear girl, is a rare ability. I look forward to when you find where you are going so I can be there once more to help advise you.”

 

Wordlessly Din'ara curled her fingers around his wrists and closed her eyes, bowing her head to curl into his grasp a little more. It was in it's own way, just as much of an embrace.

 

“Din'ara you have a good noble spirit but more you are pragmatic. Take care of yourself. You're still a woman no matter the titles that lay about your shoulders.”

 

She smiled and stepped away then, turning with an easy gait to catch up to the departing figures. Roderick stood silent and watchful until long after the last one had crested out of sight. Perhaps she did not wish to lead, and allowed them all to push her into directions they had wanted, but Din'ara also did not hesitate to act when she felt it was important and Roderick was reminded that most of the greatest figures in history were first and foremost, just people.

 

It was a good reminder. Perhaps that night when he spoke in the Chantry as the Mother had bade him, it would be on what they knew of the Shield Maiden who would one day be called Andraste. The earlier canticles.

()()()()()()()()()

 

Once the fourth group was left behind it was only scouts, soldiers, and those capable of moving swiftly. The inner circle and Bull's chargers counted amongst them. They were up at dawn and traveled until the end of the light began whence they would swiftly all make camp. Scouts would go ahead and bring back game that went into the single real meal, a bland stew made up of bits of everything. Hard jerky and tack was nibbled along the marching and Din'ara had to show a number of those still with her how to get by on less. The less gear they had the faster they could move and it was something of an eye opener to many that you needed almost nothing. With an elf or dwarf on each of the watch they didn't need to spare a fire for light, leaving them all to group together for warmth. Since there were far fewer of them Din'ara did not pull in her healing aura when they rested, ensuring no one awakened with stiff or pulled muscles which made up for less sleep. During the actual treks there was almost no talking, the pace just a little too fast for that considering over half the party was still in full plate armor.

 

At night however, before they all nodded off unless on watch, stories came out and the groups became closer. Varric took over while they'd still have the fire lit for dinner and would regale them with numerous tales in his particularly skilled manner. Cassandra was willing to share some older tales from her homeland, as did Leliana.

 

Once, Solas even told them tales from ancient Arlathan about a warrior and his trials to be accepted amongst the faithful to one of the gods. How he had failed in the end and been given a bloody death, but they were none of them innocent to the perils of their life choices and he fell fighting.

 

Din'ara had locked eyes with Solas when he finished that one and it made the older elf start as he saw something, an aged sort of weariness in her eyes. Until Solas remembered. Watching her look down at her hand, the hardened look, determination, the way for the first time he'd realized her eyes were silver as well as green before she'd taken off to face Corypheus, and a dragon. Headlong to her death to buy time for those who depended on her though she had not asked for such.

 

Perhaps she saw a bit further into the tale with that parallel.

 

()()()()()()

 

Finally they came over the ridge.

 

“there it is. Skyhold.” Solas stated regally as he swept out his arm,before thinking better of it and leaning on his staff. Beside him was Din'ara, and as often was, Sera and Cole.

 

Cole immeadiately began narrating her thoughts, something admittedly useful for the others but after the first sentence Sera was uselessly on the floor cackling.

 

“Why is the bridge so long? Where's the exit areas? Back and side escapes? How is it not covered in snow when all the mountains are? This makes no sense!” Cole starts and the boys face is in a smile even as Din'ara is rubbing at her forehead. “Confusion and frustration because it doesn't fit in her head and she thinks it's more human showing off foolishness..” Cole adds helpfully, pleased that Din'ara is always welcoming when he is in her thoughts and that in sharing hers he can help her not strain her throat. More, he's gotten good at not sharing everything. Practice.

 

“Magic.” Solas drawls out in full amusement and a laugh is startled out of him when Din'ara sends him a rude gesture in response to his jest.

 

However Solas does note that Din'ara is smiling at him, taking his joke for what it was and he is bemused at having lost control enough to laugh. From such a childish gesture no less.

 

“Lack of forethought. Such additions can be taken care of however, After all...it may be here but it has long been abandoned and shall need work.” Solas adds, Sera finally piping up from her spot on the floor.

 

“Long as I can finally get a bath I don't care if I have to hang upside down from the ceiling to paint it.”

 

“Promise?” Din'ara asks Sera with a grin and Cole is laughing but has faded once more to go and alert Varric who will share with the others that finally, they've reached their destination.

 

“Hey you can get fruit again!” Sera pipes up and the two elves are treated to the hoarse wheezing sound of Din'ara's audible laughter.

 

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

The herald is a restless creature these days.

 

It's something those who have made the last leg of the journey have all witnessed. Now that they have found Skyhold, the sky has turned black with the ravens sent out to inform the others and begin arranging to have guards and templars go and lead them here with the scouts. The few hardiest servants who came with the soldier's have been making quick work of the areas they can light fires first and the great hall. Until later everyone is bunking together for safety and ease of warming one location. Stone doesn't keep heat well, not at all, and the few areas they have located beneath crumbling walls that have far older looking architecture may be put to use later on but for now there is no stone mason amongst them to say where the areas are safe to go.

 

If a soldier was going to refuse the drudgery of tearing down vines or clearing muck, helping to scour stone and rotted wood to be pulled away it is silenced before voiced at the sight of their Herald. Armor once more traded for thicker layers that do not match and her hair in a tight bun, the elf does not hesitate to get dirty alongside her fellow servants. More than one clenches their jaw but says nothing at the eerie sight of a woman with her glowing hand upon her knees digging out dead rodents from crevices.

 

Indeed it has them to a single soul, putting their pride aside to help make the place safe and better to live in.

 

Still, Din'ara is almost never staying still unless her two closest companions are with her these days. She does not enjoy being cooped up inside and with Sera and Cole flanking her the trio often climbs to the highest part of Skyhold's sturdier towers. Leliana soon ceases to jump hearing their chuckles and voices muddled by the ever present breeze atop the rookery and keeps her own instructions softer instead so as not to be overheard. Cole has managed to endear himself to Sera, and the two have peculiar arguments good naturedly under Din'ara's amused smile. That Cole is also always repeating Din'ara's thoughts has turned into...something else indeed. An essential part of the group that is never taken for granted. For the first time everyone has an easier time discussing things with the silent figurehead as now the spirit boy is content to air her thoughts. With work, Solas involved for most of it out of sheer necessity, they have managed to help Cole figure out to omit the softer thoughts that explain the louder ones. To pin point which ones Din'ara would be speaking if she chose to. It needs constant practice however and Sera is happy to help them along on simple matters that Solas has been anything but willing to be present for such conversations. It is part of the not so new routine the elves have of watching the soldiers -male and female- and the scouts who still devote parts of their day to practice. The Herald herself chooses to do so before dawn, and those who most often joined her on quests have taken to doing the same. Later on, others practice and it gives plenty for the two women to observe and comment on. Another chance for Cole to work on his grasp of filtering thoughts and with Din'ara not refusing his attempts, for him to grasp more about how mortal minds work.

 

“..powerful legs that one, strong back. Flexing and capable of holding weight even while distracted..” Cole mutters idly as Sera chuckles, splitting the bread she's going to share with Din'ara as they are astride a wall, looking down upon the soldier's training always turns into rather risque commentary.

 

“Mm. Like doing it with one standing eh, Shady Lady Bits? Guess that's not so bad with how your bits would fit. Not quite as nice in my situation but yanno if one's standing an I'm kneeling..”

 

Din'ara laughs soundlessly and Cole shifts his talk. “Teasing is more fun, the elusive suggestions and coy smiles, the taunting hunt laid down. A reminder of days beneath dappled leaves that echo with the calls of the sylvan's and wolves. Teasing, suggestive eyes and always wondering. But not here. None actually causing a true rush of the pulse, a desire to trail lips and teeth along skin or shed garments to twine limbs together.” Cole tilts his head then, hat flipping slightly in the motion. “So much of your thoughts are of coupling even if you don't act on them. It seems to be important to you.”

 

“Alive.” Din'ara coaches him how to glide along her multitude of thoughts easily with short answers and Cole just blinks.

 

He trails along her thoughts then, gently, the sensation not unlike the very breeze tugging at their skin while they watch over those who have come with them to Skyhold. Cole allows her to sense his interference, the overlay because it allows her to shift her thoughts and have entirely silent conversations mostly on her end. He plucks at one, as her eyes moved over one of the soldiers, a rare elf in the group, a scout, lingering on the lithe form as he shifts to draw back his bow. In response she pulls up memories of strong arms around her, eagerness and comfort both depending on the encounter.

 

Cole's wavering attention then drifts yet further, he's come to be at ease with the constant sexual jokes Sera makes along with Din'ara's own carnal interests but he is still trying to figure out why mortals dwell on it so often. The closest he can imagine is that it is just how they are made so their races don't die out.

 

“Fun. Nice.” Din'ara agrees and Cole shrugs. The wisps of pleasure and enjoyment he sees in her thoughts are not so different then the things he enjoys if the how is gone about in varied ways.

 

“So is petting soft bunnies.”

 

Sera whoops then in laughter. “I like petting a diff sort o fur!”

 

“Oh yes. I see.” Cole blinks. “Not as soft as rabbit ears though.”

 

And while Cole is entirely confused as to why that makes Sera bawl in laughter and Din'ara lean into him as she laughs silently, he is pleased to have brought such a lightening of their days upon them. It is immediate, this way of helping.

 

Even if it seems that Solas always looks disgruntled when he shares the information with him later. For some reason Solas does not enjoy knowing that Din'ara finds many of their scouts and soldier's appealing in form. Cole tries to explain but it only makes Solas's mind go quieter, a way that the ancient elf uses to block Cole from his thoughts. Perhaps it is all the exposure to Sera's quicksilver ideas that it makes him more inclined to tease Solas so. If he would just allow himself to open up to the souls here, it would help him. Make him far happier.

 

But Solas is older than Cole, and much more stubborn.

()()()()()()()()

 

The first groups begin to return and slowly Skyhold is coming together. With her earlier concerns over exits and safe means to escape when first beholding the fortress there are changes being made to Skyhold's structure that are not just future plans. Gardens and chantry halls are discussed, and in her typical fashion Din'ara cuts to the heart of the matter with Cole happily lounging nearby to expand upon her curt words.

 

“Garden.”

 

“Long winters and harsh springs can mean few supplies, easy to create a siege in this place so far removed. So easy to find ourselves trapped in our bolt hole, but a garden means access to at least some sustenance and healing herbs. Ideally we should look into laying birds and perhaps livestock that would do well in the mountains here, seed it for if we need them later.” Cole pauses, smiling softly as Din'ara glances back over her shoulder and the thoughts that dance across her mind then are ones he keeps his silence on.

 

Pleasure suffuses his being at the utter gratefulness and fond affection sent his way for being able to shape all her thoughts for her. Directing the important parts and keeping out all her amusing side thoughts. Those, while he does like repeating them because Din'ara does not mind startling those around her with the extent of her true feelings upon things, would not help in this. No, they need them to act and not be petty.

 

Though Cole does want to giggle because the ranting in her thoughts about making space for them to go and pray to a statue of a woman when they certainly can't eat it in bad times is funny.

()()()()()()()

 

Sera chuckles and is relieved when finally the last of the Haven Refugees had made it back, it's rather touching to witness her Inky-sister moving to embrace Roderick and the way the old man fusses over her. Personally Sera still doesn't like him, very few do but he's had a lot of better features come out since he took the well being of one reluctant herald into his keeping. Besides, now that he is there he can finally take over from Mother Giselle on handling a lot of the frantically faithful and maybe get the few Templar's that they have in their little group to mellow out. If nothing else, Sera is glad to see the self righteous old man because Din'ara is so fond of him and for just a moment Sera's eyes can witness how Din'ara's shoulder's soften and her burden is less if only because she feels she can go to this one man for advice. Advice he's proven to give for no true benefit of his own.

 

Yeah he's a windbag, and Sera doesn't like his type, but if there's anything the Red Jenny has come to realize, it's that tolerance comes in this crazy group. She's putting up with Elvhen Glory after all aint she?

 

()()()()()()()()

 

 

All that positive ground they'd gained though is blown away when they lead a confused Din'ara up before the others and try to hand her a sword, name her inquisitor.

 

Really no one should be alarmed any more at how swiftly the armored warrior can run away and hide.

 

Blackwall snorts and sums it up, even as all the observers seem to be more entertained at the sight of their reluctant leader out of sight so swiftly. That Cassandra is grumbling loudly and stalking off to find her lets the others mill around. The aggrieved countenance of the advisors only entertainment to the many crowding into the central square. Din'ara hasn't changed a bit.

 

“Least..” Blackwall says with a jaw cracking grin. “The fruit hasn't arrived yet. Or who wants to bet they'd be coated in it?”

 

“No one is foolish enough to take that bet.” Dorian drawls, though he's noticed a certain hobo apostate has disappeared with the chatty spirit, likely off to hunt Din'ara down. Hopefully before Cassandra finds her.

 

“Word is..” One of the cheeky soldiers who helped bring in the last group pipes up. “Chancellor Roderick brought a bag of apples along for her. So she does have _some.”_

 

It really is saying something that the crowd as a whole are now taking bets -with Varric and Sera handling the books on who is betting what and for what circumstances- on the first to be hit with said apple is.

 


	22. Chapter 22

AN: I tried but this chapter insisted on being serious.

()()()()()()()

Cassandra finally tracks Din'ara down and wastes no time in cornering her. She's not cruel about it, seeing the way her friend is shaking slightly and reaches out to grasp her shoulder tightly. "What's wrong?"

"My hand or that my life is swiftly vanishing? People who get  _known_  never have a good ending Cassandra!" Din'ara growls and the rasping of her voice is painful. Cassandra wants to argue with her, belittle her selfishness.

She cannot.

Din'ara has done so much more than she needed until now, shouldered the tasks forced upon her and been there even if the entire lot of them readily ignored her desires. Would honestly, continue to do so.

"I am sorry, you do not belong just to yourself," Cassandra speaks softly and she means it.

Din'ara flexes her hand, the eerie green glow showing her eyes and flaring for a moment, casting the two in its light. "I belong to this." Din'ara closes her eyes and the fight completely leaves her as her form slumps into the stone wall. She can feel it eating at her, held at bay with her abilities but it still hurts at times. Cassandra's fingers are tight on her shoulder but she does not disagree. As long as the woman is so marked, so easily known, she is the Herald, she will be the Inquisitor.

For just a moment Din'ara lets her eyes close. But there is still Corypheus out there somewhere and he wants her life for the mark on her hand, honestly, her best chances are to let them keep pulling her along.

"Perhaps, I could speak to her, Seeker?" It is Solas who has come and neither knows how long he has stood there but Cassandra nods.

"You have ten minutes, otherwise I shall hunt you down and bring you back over my shoulder," Cassandra warns and it is meant to try and bring some levity to the situation, for all it fails.

Though they often keep their distance, Solas steps nearer now, his hand taking hers with the anchor and turning it, watching the flare of power. "It hurts you?" He asks softly. When she nods he just sighs. "I am sorry. You have borne all of this admirably for someone so young..."

"Hardly young." She grumbles and it startles a laugh from him.

"I dare say you can claim more age than I." Solas remarks and softly, ever so softly he lets some of his power seep out. At contact, it soothes the angry glow and Din'ara sighs faintly her fingers softly uncurling a little more. "It at least seems to not be too far advanced." He manages to keep the surprise from his voice, but at this stage, he would have expected it to be far further in her system. Indeed, it is not that much greater than it was when first burned into her. Many would not even notice it most the time.

"So how old, Hahren?" Din'ara rasps teasingly and at Solas's startled chuckle, even as he reaches a hand to heal her throat since clearly she won't, but the Herald is relieved he sees her teasing for what it is. A distraction from what they want of her.

"Old enough to know that this can only be good for the elven people." He whispers a response. "To have you elected to such a station, arguably on par with kings and queens of all races.."

It is just a moment, a moment when Din'ara's mismatched eyes meet his and Solas falls silent at the exhaustion and trepidation there. When she speaks, however, he realizes why all his attempts to prod her further have likely failed.

"The Lady of the Forest became well known, and despite how much those who followed her loved her, in the end, she still passed and those left behind were hunted down." It is the agony that shades her voice and Solas reminds himself that she spoke of the curse and how it burns.

"Was it hard, being twisted so?" Solas asks instead because perhaps if turned young enough, that would explain her magic not working. Werewolves cannot use it after all and..he watches her shake her head.

"The curse never ceased burning in my veins, a constant agony but my magic wouldn't let it fully take hold. My Lady kept it from consuming me, in her company I found ease to the pain but otherwise, I often wished it just would be done with."

Solas folds his hand over hers, not fearing contact with the mark which brings a soft sigh, almost a sob from her. Yes, this has been a horrid burden for the woman and she feels so apart. If the werewolf curse was always held at bay, varying levels of agony? No wonder she has been so reluctant to have this on her hand, to have eyes upon her if she had seen what that brought to someone she was devoted to. It is only now that Solas, despite that he has begrudgingly admired her in many ways, can admit there is far more to this slip of a woman. That indeed, his mark could not have gone to a better mortal.

And that he has wronged her in ways he can never explain.

"I promise, you will not need to shoulder the role of Inquisitor alone. You have those of us who have been here, and will remain." Solas begins but Din'ara's sharp look makes him pause.

For once, he does not need to harass her for words. He can read her gaze clearly.

After a moment he sighs and answers what she will not voice. "No, not..permanently. You are right."

Before his eyes he watches the warrior take a deep breath and swallow, whatever vulnerability, whatever else they may have shared and spoken of is pushed away as she stands and her hand slips from his fingers. Solas does not stop her as he stares at the wall, hearing the sound of her boots as she goes to join Cassandra.

That look was the same as when she went to face the dragon.

"You aren't being fair." Cole scolds him as he forms. Solas is startled, as usually, the spirit is kind, compassion generally wishes to soothe not take to task. "No," Cole agrees but it doesn't change the frown on his face. "But you're going to make more pain if I don't talk about it. She likes you, you know. Hates that you judge, you look at them all as lessers...but she does enjoy when you talk."

With that baffling statement, Cole is gone again.

"Where were you, weirdo?" Sera asks when Cole forms beside her, watching as Cassandra, Josephine, and Leliana are speaking in hushed tones to the pale-faced form of their friend. Din'ara does not look elated at this turn of events if anything she looks fragile, ready to shatter.

"Lancing a wound so it won't fester," Cole responds. "Should have been here, not let her run off..she needed to, Sera. Needed to compose herself, to hear, to think."

"She knew this was coming. And thanks for yanno letting me talk insteada just grabbin the thoughts outa my head first." Sera grumbles, slowly, Cole is learning.

"Her heart is racing, memories of those she's lost. She's fearful, terrified that she will become these titles and they will forget the woman beneath, the one who cleaned the chamberpots and served, who mended robes and washed dishes, who could have left to roam the countryside by her heart sister and learned more of Red Jenny's.." Cole speaks softly and Sera sighs, but Cole hears her listening, agreeing with the fears he reads off Din'ara.

It is as Din'ara ascends her steps that Cole speaks softly, just for the elf who never asked for any of this, in her thoughts. "Witherfang would be proud. You are doing what must be, though you never asked for this burden, helping where you can. You take after the Lady of the Forest."

It is that support whispered in her mind, as she is blinking back tears, that lets Din'ara raise the sword and realize no amount of fruit throwing is getting her out of this mess.


End file.
